


Just Miracles Of Matter

by endlessmasquerading



Series: Just Miracles Of Matter [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: ...Yuzuru and Shoma are basically propping this plot up on their own, ...and everything in between, Angst, Banter, Both of them can't stop being fascinated with each other, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magical Realism, Shoma has a secret, Slow Burn, Yuzuru has responsibilities, and there's some world saving discussions on the side, but don't panic everyone will make it out alive, slowish but I mean...intense so..., there's a lot of skaters along the way but...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-06-20 21:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 490,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15542622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessmasquerading/pseuds/endlessmasquerading
Summary: When colour starts disappearing from towns and cities across the globe, The Foundation For The Preservation Of Colours is set up, bringing together some of the world’s most creative minds and most talented magicians in the hope of ending the spread of the Grey Zones and defeating the strange, shadowy figures who seem to be responsible. Yuzuru Hanyu is by far the most powerful of all the Foundation’s magical recruits, and most people expect him to save the world. But Shoma doesn’t have time to speculate about that. He’s too busy trying to figure out where it is the Foundation’s famed prodigy is sneaking off to every night - that, and trying to keep the extent of his own powers under wraps.Or: An often fluffy, magical AU in which Yuzuru and Shoma sneak out every night and try to pretend the weight of the world isn’t resting on their shoulders.





	1. The Life We've Been Given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was an idea that wouldn't leave me alone unless I wrote it and for that I can only apologise but I hope maybe someone out there likes it as much as my brain apparently did...? We're about to find out I guess! The title comes from the song 'The Garden' by Take That and a lot of this story was inspired by it; you don't need to listen to the song to understand the story, but it's a beautiful song and it might give you a feel for the characters and ideas in this story.
> 
> The only warning I really give is that the opening of this does seem to imply a major character death - I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to say that is definitely not the whole picture, but if you don't want to even go there on any level then just skip over the italics and you're safe. Ok, so here's to hoping someone out there likes this - let me know if you want to know what happens next maybe...?

_The man was a stranger, someone who’d come from beyond the glass and glimmer of the Foundation’s high, shimmering walls. Brought in from the outside in the vague hope he might have a clearer perspective, some new words to offer them which could heal the wound no one from inside their community could._

_The man didn’t know Yuzuru – just another person who only learned him out of newspapers and online think-pieces. He had probably seen the pictures, the ones of a stoic, steely-eyed kid, forced to be wise beyond his years; after all, who hadn’t? But that wasn’t who anyone here had lost: they had lost someone silly and delighted and perpetually in motion, they’d lost constant chatter and sporadic bursts of laughter that didn’t always seem to have much cause. They’d lost butterflies appearing out of nowhere and sharp elbows jabbed remorselessly in sides. They’d lost annoying, reckless, relentless determination. They hadn’t lost someone who was supposed to save the world. They’d lost Yuzu. That was something far more irreplaceable – and if the world thought otherwise then they could get over it for all Shoma cared. They hadn’t deserved Yuzuru anyway._

_‘…but, no matter how it may seem to you all right now – no matter how great the gap may seem that has been left behind – it is impossible to truly lose anything which we carve out the time to remember. The pieces of a story which can be easily forgotten are not important to begin with. But there is significance in the indelible mark of someone who we shared some part of ourselves with. The sound of a friend’s footsteps, or the smell of the flower we happened upon on a morning walk together, the secrets someone told us before leaving for the night: those are the things which remain with us forever, and cannot be taken from us simply by absence…’_

_It was raining; beneath the cliffs the ocean sprays thrashed angrily against the rocky beach, whilst the sky had turned a thunderous grey. The air was filled with the sound of waves and the echoing cries from the flocks of birds which perpetually danced and swayed about the tops of the Foundation’s skyscrapers – haunting, magical and hollow. But still the man kept speaking, voice calm and measured and annoyingly sincere. Shoma wasn’t sure anyone was really listening. He looked around at the sea of faces; many familiar and many more he’d never seen before. Yuzuru was beloved at the Foundation. Yuzuru was beloved by everyone he met, probably. He was a walking spell – a trick, a show. Except he wasn’t. Because he was too honest for that. He was magic, though. Something other-worldly and captivating. He was a lot of things to a lot of people, Shoma supposed._

_Shoma swallowed and turned his head forwards again, pushing down the thought. He didn’t want to know what other people thought they knew – if his pain was different or just the same, if he had been given something more. If he was special the way he’d been made to feel he was or if that was just Yuzuru’s gift for intensity of focus doing its work. He didn’t want to know if anyone else had lost what he felt he had lost in case it got exposed as something less; to him it felt like the wound that had been constantly re-opening inside his chest for the past week was greater than anyone else’s, and he was scared in case he might find out he was wrong. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a cluster of workers; several of them pulled colourful rags from the pockets of their paint-spattered overalls and dabbed tentatively at their eyes, exchanging comforting half-hugs and whispers with each other, just about able to raise smiles still. Just in front of them stood Javier, staring unseeing at some point beyond the stranger’s shoulder, the muscles in his face unnaturally taught. The usual easy warmth of him had been leeched out, as though someone had reached inside and drained the colour from his soul. A Grey Zone in human form. Shoma shuddered. He felt Kanako shift beside him, her arm bumping into his as she swiped at a rogue tear, shaking her head slightly as though to try and clear the fog of sadness over her usually radiantly happy face. Her ponytail swished with the action. To his other side Keiji was impressively stoic, eyes dark and focused on the stranger’s face, a slight frown creasing his brow as though in concentration – it was a good impression of someone who was listening, but the light wasn’t in his face the way it usually was. Shoma wasn’t sure what his own face was doing; nothing, he hoped. Blank. Empty. He didn’t want to share what he was really feeling with anyone. He found everyone but Yuzuru too much effort; they always seemed to expect some reaction from him that he could never give them. Yuzuru hadn’t. He’d always taken whatever Shoma offered him without demand or criticism – it was always enough. He was too full up of his own thoughts and emotions and restlessness, after all; he didn’t have much need for anyone else’s, and that he cared enough to want to know what Shoma had to say at all had meant more than Shoma had really realised at the time. He always liked that Shoma listened – really listened – and he placed an importance on Shoma’s words when they did eventually come. To him Shoma’s thoughts were precious things: a privilege and not a right._

_‘…what we must remind ourselves in these moments is that it is our duty to remember every story, and to believe in every wish; to be grateful to have known something, even if only for a short time, and to take what lessons we need from the experience. That way no friend is lost and no story truly ends – everything goes on, life goes on. The sun will melt what now seems frozen, and the Earth will still turn. For all its flaws, this is the life we have been given. One where we know the wonder of all that is possible and the pain of all that is not.  Despite the possibility of danger, and in spite of all we feel it costs us, we must live, with open hearts. We must continue to love like it is a miracle that we have the chance to at all…’_

_Shoma supposed there had been little choice but to find someone from outside their clifftop city to deliver this message. Someone removed enough to find the composure to speak for more than a few sentences and the energy to talk of hope in the middle of a thunderstorm – useless as the sentiments might be anymore. After all, it wasn’t as if anyone here had any words of comfort to offer anyway; they weren’t just facing the loss of a friend, they were facing the possibility of losing everything. Their fight. Their purpose. Their home. Each other. No one knew what would become of the Foundation now, not for sure. Shoma glanced back over his shoulder to where Brian stood apart from the crowds. His eyes hollow, dark shadows beneath them; he felt responsible for something he could never have prevented, but no amount of logic could chase his doubts away. Shoma turned away with a shiver, watching as the stranger smiled at them all with the peace of someone who definitely didn’t feel the way Shoma felt, who had probably never lost anything or anyone at all._

_‘…that the sun still rises on the morning after can seem like a great injustice. But I see it as a promise: there is still light, there will be blessings to count again in time. And you must count them. Because tears are cold when they are allowed to linger – they will not heal you. What heals you is trusting in what cannot be seen or touched; what heals you is to hope, to dream again. To throw open your windows and let in the sun…’_

_Shoma winced, closed his eyes and turned away. He felt Satoko touch a hand to his shoulder behind him, but he didn’t look back; some memories weren’t meant to be shared. The feeling of Yuzuru’s fingers grazing his wrist, the soft sound of him whispering about sun and symbolism – that was a loss that couldn’t be spoken out of existence. It was a time and a place and a moment that was gone. Too quick and not appreciated enough at the time. Shoma took a breath and lifted his head, squinting against the cold grey light and wincing as a raindrop hit his forehead, sticking his hair to his skin. And that was when he saw it: a fluttering at the stranger’s shoulder. In the midst of a wet, miserable afternoon, something shimmered – a hint of pale blue and gold. Shoma watched as the little speck of colour and motion danced a path around the stranger’s head. Beside him he heard Kanako let out a soft, wet exclamation from the back of her throat, and when he looked over he saw another shimmer, something pretty and blue and green darting past them. At the same moment, just in front of them, Maia held out a hand – the first smile anyone had seen from her in days splitting her face as something iridescent and flittering landed on her fingers. Shoma blinked slowly, confusion turning into realisation as he counted out a number of colourful, dancing specks amongst the crowd. Butterflies:_ Yuzuru’s _butterflies. The ones which had so often followed him about the grounds until he waved them off with a laugh and a wrinkle of his nose, like it was a problem everyone had. Shoma had never known them fly about anyone but Yuzuru before. But now they fluttered amidst the crowd like they wanted attention; a delicate white one bobbed up into Shoma’s eyeline and darted close, moving so fast it seemed to glitter. Shoma tilted his head, as though trying to answer the question inherent in the butterfly’s impatient fluttering. It paused for just a moment, right in front of his face, like it remembered him. And then, suddenly, it was dancing off after the others, the lot of them taking off at once, darting across the courtyard and away, like they had somewhere to be._

_As he watched them, Shoma allowed his mind to wander – to remember something he had spent a week trying to forget. The last thing Yuzuru had told him before they ran headlong into the end: the two of them standing half way up the path, Yuzuru’s fingers tight around Shoma’s hand as he tugged him to a halt in front of him. “Promise me: if you’re ever afraid that everything is lost, just remember being with me here, in this place, and believe in impossible things again. Everything was a miracle once, Shoma. That the sun rises is a miracle, and it happens every day. The sun always rises: I truly believe that – and I believe in you.” It had been a promise and an instruction – it had been a gentle reminder that, whatever those around them might think, Yuzuru wasn’t the only one with power and the duty to use it well. His eyes had been smiling, Shoma remembered. Even as they’d taken off running again. Yuzuru’s hand gripping his own fiercely tight – the only clue that he felt any fear at all._

_Shoma looked up blearily, blinking back the sudden sharpness of the memory, and was startled to realise that the stranger was looking right at him. He smiled at Shoma, slow and quiet and patient, and tipped his head in what was almost a bow._

_‘What we would give for one more night, filled with joy and peace and laughter; what we would give to be able to go back to those moments when we let down our guard against the world, only this time remind ourselves to understand how lucky we were to be there with that person at all. But there is power in a wish. Even after our longest days, the restless will eventually come to rest. And the sun will rise again: it is something to believe in when everything else fails us. A reminder that we are all just miracles of matter – fragile, magical, impossible. Every sequence and combination and eventuality that could’ve been thrown up: and here we are. There are always fragments, moments we can draw upon, to create new dreams and rebuild old ones – if we believe. When all seems hopeless, remember: all it takes for a miracle in the darkness is a source of light. Open your windows to the sun. Be the miracle of happenstance you are. There is always magic in this world, but we must draw it out of ourselves, even when life’s hardships make us doubt it.’_

_Shoma felt his breath catch. In that moment, he finally understood._

***

 

 

Shoma had never had any particular desire to leave his hometown behind. To leave his friends and his family and everything else that was familiar. Frankly, it was rare that Shoma ever wanted to leave his bed. And yet, when the invitation had come, he had known he would accept it almost immediately. It had meant leaving everything, but he had made up his mind all the same: out of a sense of duty or purpose, or whatever else it was that always drove him forwards even when he had no desire to move. Quietly and without much indecision or protest or fussing over long goodbyes, he had left everything he had ever known behind. For this. The chance to come and live, instead, inside the peculiar skyscraper city that was the Foundation For The Preservation Of Colour And Creativity.

 

The Foundation sat at the top of a high, craggy cliff, perching precariously at what looked a lot like the edge of the world; the collection of buildings which clustered together at the cliff’s edge were all light and glass, centred around three impossible skyscrapers that stretched so high their tops were shrouded in cloud and flocks of small, white birds swirled constantly around them day and night. At night the whole complex seemed to glisten and gleam, lit up by thousands of tiny lights and the reflection of the stars, and the air around it hummed with a constant energy. Shoma had felt it prickling against his skin before he’d even passed through the gates, but then he had always been more sensitive to these things than most. Everything about the place seemed to shimmer and wink, alive with magic and the bustling of its inhabitants; scattered windows suddenly lighting up from top to bottom as day shifted into night, lifts zipping up and down near-constantly and pretty fountains dancing in the courtyard that lay between the many buildings as people ran back and forth, chasing friends and discussing ideas. Whether it was kept up by some miraculous feat of architecture or by out-and-out magic, Shoma didn’t know, but at the Foundation either option was equally possible.

 

When the first Grey Zones had begun to appear, most people had assumed the problem would go away; right itself or peter out, or at least keep itself to some predictable pattern. No one had imagined that, before long, the whole world would be covered in them: the places where the colours had disappeared. Taken overnight, seemingly by mysterious, faceless shadow-figures known only as The Snatchers, who always seemed to arrive the moment the colours left. The initial response had been tempered and slow; maybe people had simply been too afraid to entertain the possibility that it was something that could happen in their town or city or country. Now there wasn’t a nation on the planet that didn’t have at least one place struck down, and governments everywhere had had to set up whole departments to deal with the issues surrounding the problem. There were island-nations in the Pacific and the Caribbean where you had to go out to sea before you could find any hint of colour again, and some of the Grey Zones turned into ghost-towns overnight as people fled their homes rather than face their new, greyscale reality.

 

The group who had first formed the Foundation had been some of the first people to realise the danger, but it had taken them a long time to persuade people to help their cause and come and join them. The Foundation buildings were so beautiful and improbable for a reason: at first people had needed an incentive to leave their normal lives behind in favour of a life trying to unpick the possibilities of colour and magic and creativity. Shoma could understand that – he wasn’t sure he would have accepted his own invitation so easily, back in the beginning. It hadn’t seemed real to Shoma then; it had felt like something distant and unlikely and faraway. It certainly hadn’t seemed like something he would ever have to worry about, and he’d been too young to want to spend much time dwelling on the misery the grown-ups watched on the news. He’d put it to the back of his mind – a thing that troubled other people. That was until the first Grey Zone had appeared in Japan. It was alarming how quickly everything had changed; suddenly, across the world, people lived with the knowledge that they might wake up the next day to a life without colour. And worse still, there might come a day when they couldn’t remember what a life with colour had been like at all.

 

The Foundation’s purpose was simple: to bring together the most talented and the most powerful in the world in the hope of finding a way to bring the colours back. Writers and painters and musicians, architects and inventors, designers of every kind; the best and brightest were invited to lend their minds to the problem. But the most hope was placed in those people the Foundation reached out to who possessed more unusual talents: those who possessed powers. Magic had been the first thing people had turned to right from the start; some terrible magic had stolen their colours, so it stood to reason that good magic could bring them back. But no one any government had summoned from any nation had been able to undo what had been done, and spending too long in the Grey Zones seemed to sap even the strongest of their energy, dulling their powers and making them weak. The Foundation had been the first group to put forward the suggestion that collaborative solutions needed to be found: they invited people of every category of power, Artists, Healers and Warriors alike.

 

And then, of course, they invited Yuzuru Hanyu. The one person in all the universe whose powers defied being placed into any single category – or at least, that’s what people believed. He exuded power and fierce determination, as though he challenged people to try and restrict him to one simple category or word, to reduce the sheer impossibility of him to something understandable. People had known about him since he was just a child; before they’d had any real need for his talents and it had been exciting for people to speculate what he might achieve, as though that wasn’t something that might put too much pressure on an eight-year-old kid. His was the first name on many lips when the Grey Zones had first begun to appear, and the Foundation had been quick to seek him out. He’d been one of the Foundation’s earliest arrivals and he had come without hesitation, amid a flurry of publicity; his presence there had given them the air of legitimacy they had needed to grow, but it had also brought more eyes, more attention. Now their glass fortress was a stronghold of colour and creativity; a place of discoveries and invention, of endless ideas and experiments. But still the Grey Zones spread. Still The Snatchers roamed the streets of the affected places whilst the people around them slowly began to forget what had gone before. The Foundation continued to test theories of both prevention and cure, but increasingly their job was becoming one of firefighting: trying to buy time and placate impatient governments, to turn the tide of public opinion back in their favour despite their lack of concrete results. Shoma tried not to dwell on what would happen if the naysayers won out – if the Foundation doors closed. What hope would be left for anyone then?

 

The Foundation was built on hope; the whole energy of the place was clinquant and bright. It had given Shoma a headache at first; he’d squinted up at it from the other side of the gates with tired, unimpressed eyes, biting anxiously at his bottom lip as he contemplated it. The unfamiliarity of it was daunting. The number of people was more daunting still. Shoma liked what he knew: his mother’s cooking and the way his brother banged around too early in the morning, the routine of staying up too late gaming and having to struggle not to sleep past his stop on the bus the next day. He liked people in small doses – he liked knowing he could get away when he wanted to and recharge before the next onslaught of social obligation began – and the people who knew him best understood that, indulged him and didn’t push. Finding new routines and meeting new people was mildly terrifying; Shoma had a tendency for the chaotic and he was easily overwhelmed when too much information came at him at once. At a place like the Foundation the possibilities for how he could embarrass himself were probably endless. On the bright side, if he found a way to laugh it off and remain unfazed then there was a chance it would win him friends. It had worked before. He was small enough and dazed enough that – if he played up to it – people tended to adopt him quickly and with a fierce sort of protectiveness that would annoy him more if he wasn’t the sort of person who was smart enough to use it to his advantage. There were upsides to being underestimated, he knew.

 

Dragging half his life along with him in two large, battered suitcases up the winding path to the Foundation’s main entrance was something he did almost on autopilot, staring unseeingly forwards and listening as the group around him chattered animatedly to each other and made loose plans. He didn’t really focus on what they were saying, just nodded when he thought it was expected of him and made vague sounds of agreement here and there. Normally Shoma was good at listening, good at reading people’s faces and picking up on the things they weren’t saying out loud – but it took effort and concentration to listen as intently as he did, and he was running low on energy after a day of travelling. He needed to sleep. Or at least to be able to sprawl out on a bed and stare into space for a while.

 

He felt an elbow jostle him, gentle but deliberate, and he glanced across, blinking rapidly as he was met with a vaguely amused smile and a quirked eyebrow.

‘Are you ok?’ It was the girl who Shoma had met at the airport – a Warrior named Satoko who was quick and bright and gentle in a way that had dissipated some of Shoma’s nerves, for a little while at least.

‘Yeah, just tired,’ Shoma said, managing a small smile. Her eyes glittered as she nodded back at him sceptically.

‘Ok.’ She elbowed him again. ‘It’s ok to not be ok too, though, you know,’ she added. Shoma looked at her out of the corner of his eye and she laughed, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘This is terrifying, right? Exciting but…’ Shoma raised his eyebrows at her and she laughed again, pulling a face at him. He smiled back, more genuine this time.

‘Yeah. But it’s ok.’ He sighed, eyeing the buildings which loomed before them and the sunny-faced guide in paint-spattered overalls who was leading their group up the path, talking to some of the others enthusiastically, gesturing wildly with her hands. ‘What’s the point in having powers if we don’t try and do something with them, right?’ he asked. Satoko hummed, her own gaze wandering up to where the sparkling skyscrapers disappeared into the clouds.

‘I think we’re still allowed to be nervous, though.’ She looked back at Shoma then, offering him a tentative smile. There was something determined in her eyes that Shoma liked. ‘But we won’t be nervous for long. We will be surrounded by the best and we will rise up to it, right?’

‘Is that a challenge?’ Shoma asked with a soft laugh.

‘It’s a promise,’ Satoko replied. Shoma smiled slightly, shaking his head.

‘No way: I’m not getting in over my head.’

‘You promise with me or else!’ Satoko laughed.

‘If it was a _challenge_ , maybe…’ Shoma shot back, getting an elbow in the ribs again in return.

‘You’re quiet but you’re dangerous,’ Satoko declared. Shoma stuck his tongue out at her by way of a reply, and, though he didn’t feel any less tired, he felt some of his nerves subside and he suspected he had already won himself a very loyal friend.

 

Shoma’s room was on one of the high-up floors above the clouds, not that there were many clouds today; he could see out to where the fishing boats bobbed on the horizon and if he held his breath he could just about hear the cries of the birds as they swooped about below like it was choreography. Eerie, but peaceful. Shoma felt his eyelids drooping. He was perched on the ledge of the large window, knees pulled up to his chest – making himself as small as possible. He felt fragile again; nervous to touch anything or settle himself in. As though that gave him the possibility of escaping, of changing his mind about all this. He looked back over his shoulder towards the bed, eyeing the jacket which had been laid out there for him. There was no uniform at the Foundation, as such, but for those of them with powers they were all issued with jackets: their names printed down one sleeve, their national flag and a symbol representing the classification of their power on the other. Shoma’s bore a small dove beneath the Japanese flag: the symbol of the Healers. He swallowed and looked back out of the window with a sigh, his eyebrows drawing into a small frown. He wondered which symbol Yuzuru’s jacket displayed – perhaps all three? That must be a heavy weight to bear, he supposed. He could live with just his dove.

 

He sent a text to his mother letting her know he had arrived safely and that he was fine. He sent another, more honest, message to his brother, adding a picture of the view from his window and melodramatically complaining about how – if he didn’t get caffeine soon – he was probably going to die. Then he leant his head against the window and closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he promised himself. After all, there was some sort of schedule sitting neatly beside his jacket on the bed: there was a meeting of some kind set for that afternoon, and Shoma supposed he shouldn’t expose his tendency for lateness and disorganisation on his very first day. But the sun was pleasantly warm on his skin as it streamed through the window, and the faint sound of the birds was musical and soothing. His whole body felt heavy with exhaustion and he had run out of the will to fight it.

 

He woke up with a crick in his neck and his muscles tight. Unusually for him, there was no confusion as to where he was or how he got there: everything was still uncomfortably clear in his mind, a reminder that this was his life now and he didn’t really have the option to go back on his choices. He hadn’t had time to dwell on how exactly it all made him feel though – one glance at the time on his phone had told him he was cutting it fine to make whatever it was they were required to attend that afternoon, and he only had the faintest of clues about how he was supposed to get back to the courtyard which served as the meeting point, sitting, as it did, in the centre of the Foundation’s complex maze of glimmering glass buildings and improbable staircases. There was a map, somewhere in the collection of papers that still lay untouched on the bed, but Shoma wasn’t going to draw attention to how new and lost and useless he was by traipsing about clutching a map. He unfurled himself, edging down from the window ledge and stretching out his stiff muscles, yawning, full-bodied and cat-like, arms stretched above his head.

 

The air had turned cooler since he’d arrived, the sun now at a different angle across the room, and Shoma shivered slightly, feeling goosebumps rising on his arms. He paused for a moment, eyeing the jacket on the bed with suspicion. It would be too big – Shoma didn’t need to pick it up to tell. But the fabric looked soft and warm, and there was a chance that wearing something approximating a uniform, proudly bearing the Foundation’s name across its back, might make him feel a little less out of place. He crossed the room and picked it up tentatively, running his fingers along the lettering of his name and the Foundation’s crest – a small approximation of the Foundation complex’s silhouette picked out in a watercolour blend of shimmering colours mixing into each other. When he pulled it on the sleeves came down a good way over his hands, but it was comfortable; there was something reassuring about being able to disappear inside it, to curl in on himself without people realising.

 

The courtyard was a calm, tranquil space. Whilst the buildings around were all shimmer and movement, the open courtyard seemed to be blanketed by a hazy kind of peace. Like summers as a kid. Shoma felt it to his core. There was a low murmur of conversation and the babble of water features, and the light that reflected off the various shallow pools cast rippling rainbow patterns all around the space. There were people dotted about everywhere; sitting cross-legged on the low walls of the pools, standing in groups at the foot of staircases, stretched out in patches of sunlight. Shoma hovered uncertainly at the edge of everything, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. He kept his expression carefully blank as he eyed the space, studying the details; flags of countries on jackets, the patterns picked out in the mosaics of the pools, the direction of the breeze as it swirled around the space and the staticky prickle of different people’s magic occasionally jumping out from the background hum. Shoma flinched at the sound of someone calling his name.

 

‘Shoma!’ Shoma looked over to where the voice was coming from, wide-eyed with a mixture of anxiety and surprise. There was a group gathered beside a pool just behind him, several of whom he recognised from earlier; Satoko was there, dipping her hand under the gentle spray of the fountain and chatting animatedly to a girl Shoma didn’t know. One of the other new boys, a Healer named Boyang, was sitting cross-legged on the ground, nodding enthusiastically at something on the phone screen of the Russian Warrior Shoma had briefly met at the gates when they’d arrived. The one who had called out to him was the one Shoma talked to a little on the bus: Nathan. He was quiet and laid-back and had spent most of the journey listening to music on his headphones – but he had talked to Shoma a little, both of them somewhat cautious and shy and relieved to find someone else as overwhelmed as they felt. Shoma hadn’t asked him about his powers, but his jacket bore the star emblem that Shoma thought belonged to the Warriors – not that he looked much like one in that moment, what with his unruly curls being whipped up by the breeze and a lazy smile on his face as he squinted against the sun, looking up at Shoma from one eye and leaning back on his hands. ‘It is Shoma, right?’ he clarified when Shoma didn’t reply, and Shoma smiled slightly, letting out a small, self-conscious laugh, head bobbing in a nod.

‘Yeah,’ he said, pulling nervously on his jacket sleeves. ‘You’re Nathan?’ he asked and Nathan grinned.

‘So you were listening back on the bus,’ he joked, eyes twinkling kindly. ‘I wasn’t completely sure; you looked half-asleep the whole time,’ he added teasingly. Shoma wrinkled his nose, coming to perch beside Nathan on the low wall.

‘I think that’s just my face,’ he remarked dryly, rolling his eyes. Nathan laughed and Shoma let out a breath he had been very much aware he’d been holding, allowing himself to let his guard down just a little.

 

As Shoma eyed the rest of the group around them, he realised he didn’t recognise most of them; whilst he had been sleeping, everyone else had clearly been out making friends. He supposed his choice to hide in his room hadn’t been the most pro-active one, but Nathan and the others didn’t seem to hold it against him, greeting him brightly, like he’d hardly been gone for more than a minute. He gave a small, shy wave and pretended not to notice the way the American girl sitting on the floor opposite Nathan practically cooed in response.

‘Hey,’ she smiled at him encouragingly, and Shoma could see the effort it was taking her not to fuss over him some more. As long as she didn’t outright say the word “cute” he could just about bear it; he supposed he deserved it when he was slow-blinking at her through a sleep-mussed fringe and communicating mostly through the vague waving of his sweater paws. ‘I’m Ashley,’ she added then, gesturing loosely at the sleeve of her jacket and sweeping some of her hair out of her face. She was pretty, in a wild sort of a way; her other sleeve was decorated with a Warrior symbol beneath her American flag, and there was something electric about the energy around her which made Shoma slightly cautious of her. ‘Adam, say hello to Shoma,’ she chided the man sitting next to her. He looked up from his phone and smiled kindly.

‘Hello, Shoma,’ he repeated in a slight drawl. Shoma’s lips quirked into a tentative approximation of a smile. ‘Don’t worry about Ash: if she’s bothering you, just let me know and I’ll kick her in the ribs for you,’ Adam remarked archly, his mouth quirking into a shameless smirk as Ashley thwacked him on the shoulder in response. The symbol on Adam’s jacket was a flower – an Artist, then. Shoma was surprised: his energy felt spikier than he’d thought an Artist’s would, but there was a kindness in his eyes which reassured Shoma a little.

 

The group continued chattering around him; Shoma mostly listened, enjoying the lazy back and forth and finding himself laughing as the others joked and poked fun at each other. It was almost easy, almost like being around his friends back home. No one was trying too hard to coax him to speak, but they didn’t ignore him either. Boyang motored off on an enthusiastic tangent and the Americans ribbed each other and no one asked anyone the awkward “So, tell us a little about yourself…?” questions which Shoma had been dreading. He didn’t like being reminded that he was new, that this was all strange and he was still somewhat of an outsider. He wanted instant familiarity – and he almost had it, sitting with this group. Shoma took them all in, quiet and impassive, picking up details from their jackets, the way their energy felt and how they chipped in with the rapid-fire conversation as it sparked around him. There were more Americans closer to Satoko – a Healer named Jason, a Warrior named Mirai and an Artist named Karen – and Satoko herself had found another Japanese girl to talk to, a Healer named Wakaba who smiled radiantly over at Shoma when Satoko pointed him out to her, offering him an enthusiastic wave. He smiled back, nodding his head in a polite half-bow. Satoko smiled at him at that – somewhere between wry and fond – and turned back to her conversation. There were others – some drifting in to say hello and then drifting away again, some leaping headfirst into the conversation before they’d even found a place to sit. Shoma stopped paying attention to names and nationalities, just smiled politely and gave small nods by way of a greeting when required. He let a Russian girl talk at him for a while before Wakaba spotted her and let out a delighted gasp before pulling her over to meet Satoko; the girl mimed an apology over her shoulder to him and he laughed slightly, shrugging and turning back to listen in on Boyang and Nathan arguing in circles about some nonsense fact Boyang had found on the internet about seahorses – a topic they’d drifted on to for reasons no one could remember by the time they’d finished the discussion. Shoma was allowed into every conversation without question, and when he did chip in with some remark no one queried whether or not he was supposed to have been listening to them. There were advantages to being perceived as quiet and confused and sweet: people let their guards down, offering a strange sort of instant-trust that he wouldn’t hurt them and consequently not trying too hard to be anything other than who they really were. It wasn’t a misplaced trust: Shoma felt things too deeply to be reckless when it came to the feelings of others. All he wanted was straightforwardness – he liked that he disarmed people enough to get it, most of the time.

 

‘Where is he anyway?’

‘Yeah, isn’t he always obsessively early for these things?’

‘Zhenya.’

‘What, it’s true! I don’t judge him for it. If I had to fit as much into my time as he does, I’d probably be obsessive about being early too.’

‘He’s here – I saw him with the Shibs on the way down.’

‘Alex and Maia are here already?’

‘I don’t know. But they said they were coming straight down after getting coffee.’

‘Urgh, no fair: I seriously want coffee now.’

‘I asked you if you wanted to go grab something on the way, Ash – but no, you were all “Brian will kill us if we sneak in late to every meeting this week” so I dropped it.’

‘Shut up, Adam: if I go get coffee with you then we’re always in there for, like, an hour, while you agonise over which crazy flavour combination you wanna try this time.’

‘There’s always so much choice here – you can’t rush important decisions like that!’

‘Oo, did you know there’s a new place opening soon? I think they’re going to do a tasting thing next week, like a big opening event for anyone not busy with a session.’

‘Me and all the other girls from Team Japan have made a pact to sneak out of training for it.’

‘Why is it fine when you guys call yourselves Team Japan, but when Team USA does it we get told we’re being obnoxious?’

‘Because you _chant_ it! Loudly!’

‘And Jason starts wearing crazy outfits that hurt our eyes!’

‘Your Team Japan isn’t so innocent – everyone at the Foundation knows when you’re all in one place.’

‘Misha, that’s so unfair!’

‘I don’t exactly have a team of my own round here, so I feel like I don’t need to be so nice to you all, you all need to take pity on me instead.’

‘Harsh. But also justified. I guess. Although it’s not like you’re short of offers: you know everyone! And you’re always welcome to join when us Russians get together.’

‘Zhenya, all you Russians do when you get together is complain.’

‘That’s such a generalisation! Just because we don’t laugh and squeal as much as Team Japan over here.’

‘Hey, you are an honorary member of Team Japan, Zhenya, you’re not allowed to be mean to us!’

‘Also, in Japan’s defence? I think, like, 90% of their laughing and squealing is just Yuzu.’

‘Ash!’

‘What! It’s true. God love the guy but he draws attention.’

‘It’s what he does. He can’t help it.’

‘Yeah, which begs the original question: why can’t I see him here already? Is something going on do you think?’

 

Shoma had barely managed to keep up with the brisk conversation around him, eyes darting to each face as they spoke. Those who had been at the Foundation for a while had a habit of starting stories half way through and expecting everyone to already know all the characters; in a way it was nice, the easiness with which they welcomed the new arrivals was so genuine they seemed to forget there was any need for explanation at all. But Shoma was finding it an effort to keep up.

 

Someone flopped down beside him.

‘He’s right over there, guys. You can probably see him from space.’ The dry voice belonged to a man and Shoma looked up at him in surprise. He offered Shoma smile in return, holding out a hand to shake that Shoma took tentatively. ‘Keiji.’

‘Shoma,’ Shoma replied quietly, then his forehead creased into a frown. ‘See who from space?’

‘Yuzu,’ came a chorus of replies, voices amused and fond and weary all at once. Keiji simply nodded, jerking his head in the direction of a large group of people on the opposite side of the courtyard, collecting around one of the pools in a similar fashion to their own group.

‘As in Hanyu…?’ Keiji elaborated then, in a tone that implied he didn’t think he had to say anymore. He was right, of course, but Shoma’s face must’ve still looked confused because he arched an eyebrow at him. ‘You’re from Japan too, right? So…you know him, yeah?’ Keiji asked, indicating the little Japanese flag on Shoma’s jacket, and Shoma gave a small nod.

‘Oh. Yeah, I’m from Japan,’ he said in a small voice. ‘So, sure, he’s a legend there.’ Shoma shrugged then, looking down. ‘But you can’t know someone out of headlines. I try not to pay attention,’ he added. Keiji smiled at him like he’d just passed some sort of test, nodding slowly and bumping his shoulder against Shoma’s approvingly.

‘Good answer,’ he said. Shoma couldn’t help but smile back, eyeing Keiji thoughtfully. His jacket indicated he was a Warrior, but there was a warm gentleness about him that was soothing. Shoma relaxed slightly.

‘It’s just the truth,’ he murmured, tipping his head slightly in thought. ‘He’s done good things for our country – for the whole world. And he has given up a lot to do them. That takes a good heart, I think. And a lot of courage. For that, he deserves my respect,’ he said, slow and careful. ‘To respect someone is to respect their privacy. To treat them like a human not a headline and to believe they can’t be known unless they give you permission to know them. I think you should wait for someone to show you who they are before you make assumptions.’ Keiji was looking at him with a smile which was somehow impressed and surprised at the same time, and Shoma shrugged somewhat awkwardly, pulling a face and squirming under the scrutiny he suddenly had from the whole group. ‘I mean…there’s that and…my main interests are eating, sleeping and gaming so I don’t really have room to cram in thinking about total strangers I’ve seen on the news all that often.’ Keiji laughed brightly.

‘Fair,’ he nodded. ‘You’re a different one, aren’t you?’ he remarked as an afterthought, sounding approving, and Shoma simply shrugged again.

‘I try,’ he mumbled.

 

Satoko reached over to flick Shoma’s ear then, flopping down on his other side. He glared at her half-heartedly.

‘Sho, I think that’s the most I’ve heard you speak! I feel like you’ve been keeping things from me: why didn’t you give _me_ all your thoughts like this?’ Satoko demanded playfully, and Shoma wrinkled his nose, narrowing his eyes at her.

‘Maybe you didn’t ask good enough questions,’ he shot back.

‘Shoma!’ Satoko protested in mock offence, but she was smiling at him and he smiled back easily, pulling a face at her.

‘So much for Japan being a team then,’ Adam put in dryly.

‘No!’ Wakaba gasped, outraged. ‘We can be a team and still tease each other! You guys do it all the time!’ she insisted.

‘Well she’s got us there,’ Ashley remarked. ‘And we can be way more vicious when we get going, actually: remember the big “sports day” drama?’

‘Oh my God,’ Adam said, placing a theatrical hand to his chest. ‘We spent the whole night drinking to _forget_ that ridiculous attempt at teambuilding.’ He feigned a shudder.

‘Sports day?’ Wakaba frowned.

‘Oh this was way back – before you young’uns were even born probably.’

‘Adam, it was like a few years ago at most,’ Ashley snorted, giving him a shove. ‘I seem to remember Misha standing on a table yelling “I’m an _Artist_ , I don’t deserve this indignity” over a series of really poor jokes about his relay-race technique,’ she added then, looking over at one of the people Shoma hadn’t been introduced to, arching one eyebrow at him and giving him a knowing smirk. The man laughed slightly, nodding his head thoughtfully and tapping a finger to his lips in a show of deep consideration.

‘I think I remember this…and I don’t think it was my finest moment, maybe. But do I get some credit for saying it in three languages at least?’ he joked.

‘Definitely not,’ Adam insisted. ‘You get no credit because, in fact, my jokes about your relay-race technique were the highest level of comedy.’

‘They absolutely were not,’ Mirai informed him bluntly. ‘And your rendition of our national anthem that day wasn’t the height of musical achievement either, for the record.’

‘I have the voice of an angel.’

‘Not after that many drinks you don’t,’ Ashley said under her breath, letting out a squeak as Adam jabbed her with his elbow.

‘Yeah, you know, I don’t think Yuzu ever quite recovered from you guys terrorizing him that day,’ Misha put in. ‘He was the youngest one here back then, wasn’t he?’

‘A poor, impressionable youth,’ Adam nodded. ‘Nobu was there though, right? He would’ve reassured him we weren’t all totally crazy.’

‘I don’t know – I think he still thinks you guys are crazy.’

‘And, actually, I kinda think Nobu might be totally crazy himself so what reassurance he was going to give anyone I don’t know.’

‘Yeah, and that day got loud. Like, it was traumatizing even if you understood what was going on. Yuzu looked like he wanted to bolt – but he’s just too competitive for his own good. He only stuck around to find out which team won.’

‘Well, Yuzu has no room to talk about loud: he doesn’t even drink and yet he laughs like a donkey. And he’s stubborn too – he could’ve backed down and just left us to it, but he was saving face because he knew we’d never let him live it down.’

‘Mean,’ said the Russian girl, Evgenia, folding her arms and fixing Adam with a stern look. Adam simply rolled his eyes.

‘Please: it’s nothing I haven’t said right to him. Me and Yuzu have an understanding. He knows I find it hard to be in awe of him all the time so I have to pick at the faults where I can find them.’

‘Like you’re in awe of anything but your own reflection,’ Ashley said with a wicked smirk.

‘See, Evgenia? _That_ was mean,’ Adam sighed. ‘I put up with so much,’ he added in an airy tone. Ashley rolled her eyes.

‘You’re so melodramatic.’

‘I am what I am, Ashley: you can find a new best friend if you don’t want to deal with it anymore.’

‘God. Way too much work. And, at this point? You know too much, honestly.’

 

Shoma turned away, letting the good-natured argument continue around him as he allowed his mind to wander. His gaze strayed over to the group on the opposite side of the courtyard which Keiji had gestured to before; it was a messy group made up of a near-constant ebb and flow of bodies, people drifting over to them and away again, almost everyone who arrived in the courtyard taking the time to look their way and call out to them, causing the group to shift and rearrange each time. And, as one such shift of bodies occurred, that was when Shoma finally caught sight of the person who was sitting at the very heart of the group. The person everyone seemed to want to talk about and gravitate to – who Shoma had heard stories about since he was a child. Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

He didn’t look like the person from the news footage – he didn’t look like any person Shoma had ever seen before, in fact. He was almost an impossibility; all limbs and elbows and movement, too bright to be quite believed. His head was thrown back in a laugh that took over his whole face, his eyes disappearing into two crescents and his hair flying out wildly. Ridiculous. A nonsense. Shoma’s head lolled back slightly as he watched him with quiet curiosity. It was an unusual face – sweet and childlike one moment before suddenly becoming all intensity as someone leant in to tell him something. His head nodded and bobbed constantly as he chattered and laughed and listened before chattering some more, and he offered his affection to those around him with the same force he did everything else, throwing improbably long arms around shoulders and patting heads until the hair was a fluffy mess. He was indulged by those around him – allowed to laugh too loudly and scrunch his face up in silly smiles, allowed to pull at them and push at them and gasp overdramatically at their retorts. And Shoma could feel the intense prickle of electricity just beneath the surface; even from all the way across the courtyard he could feel the power, the crackling, impatient energy he radiated. On the surface he was silly and happy and carefree, but he was carrying a whole universe inside him and Shoma could _feel_ it.

 

And then, suddenly, Yuzuru looked up. His eyes found Shoma’s immediately, and Shoma felt the blush rising in his face at being caught looking – he could feel the heat and sting of it, low along his jawline. But he couldn’t bring himself to look away, to pretend he hadn’t been watching. Because Yuzuru’s pale pink lips were curling up into the gentlest of smiles; somehow a secret, a whisper of communication meant only for him. It was something sweet and gorgeous and enchanting: it was an expression which was simultaneously so soft and so intense that Shoma’s breath caught slightly in the back of his throat. Yuzuru scrunched his nose up, the smile widening as he sat up a little straighter, and Shoma felt himself smile back, vague and shy and uncertain. Yuzuru beamed at him for that – _beamed_ – the light pouring out of him. For a heartbeat, he was incandescent for no one but Shoma. But, just as suddenly as the moment of connection had arrived, it was gone again. Someone knocked into Yuzuru’s shoulder, drawing his attention away as he turned towards them with a huff of surprise, saying something to them that resulted in another wild peel of laughter. Shoma blinked, unsure if he’d just imagined the whole thing.

 

Shoma swallowed hard, wetting his dry lips and pursing them. He felt foolish, and not entirely convinced Yuzuru had even been looking at him at all. But he could still feel that prickle on his skin – the low swell of Yuzuru’s gravity, almost stronger now than it had been before. Shoma suspected that, even if he didn’t have a sense for such things, Yuzuru’s presence was one which would pervade everything just the same. He wondered if the others felt it too, on some level – if that was why so many flocked around him and glanced his way, some part of them picking up on the constant thrum and pull of him that was so barely contained, so very close to the surface.

 

‘Alright, boys and girls: the sooner you all quieten down and pay attention to me, the sooner you can get back to enjoying your day off!’ An authoritative, though not unkind, voice cut across the courtyard, and all around heads turned and people stilled, some letting out fond heckles and whoops as the owner of the voice appeared at the head of the courtyard, hands clasped in front of him and a caring, if a little world-weary, smile on his face. Another face Shoma had seen on the news: Brian Orser – the public face of the Foundation, the director of its operations and one of the key actors in establishing their clifftop home. He was beloved by some corners of the public; others had turned on him quickly with his talk of things taking time, fear and impatience making people unnecessarily cruel. All Shoma saw was someone who cared – about the world and also about those under his supervision. He had seen the way he would place a protective hand on Yuzuru’s shoulder whenever they were required to appear together, the tight line his lips would form when he heard those who doubted or distrusted Yuzuru ask pointed questions and make sly digs. He couldn’t take the weight of the world from the shoulders of those people he took in to his Foundation’s fortress, but he could help – Shoma saw that kindness in him and he admired him for it. ‘Good to hear you’re all on such good form this afternoon,’ Brian was joking wryly over the tops of the shouts and whoops, casting his eyes around the many faces and nodding patiently as more hollers rose up from around him. ‘Alright, alright – settle down, the lot of you, or I’ll start scheduling Power Classification lessons on your Sundays instead, and then you’ll be sorry.’

‘Not as sorry as Tracy when she realises you’re going to make her work on Sundays,’ called a voice, and Shoma looked across to the voice’s owner. Twinkling, dark eyes and a mischievous mouth; he was sitting next to Yuzuru, who was laughing and shoving at his shoulder like a naughty school kid. Brian looked at the pair of them with a fond sort of despair.

‘Javi, maybe you could at least pretend to respect my authority for one day: we do have some new people who’ve joined us today, it might be nice to set a good example,’ he said, his tone still warm despite the warning. The man who had spoken – Javi – smiled impishly.

‘But where’s the fun in a good example?’ he asked.

‘In the peace and quiet it will bring your long-suffering mentor,’ Brian replied without missing a beat, and from the expressions of the others gathered in the courtyard Shoma suspected this wasn’t the first time such an exchange had happened at one of these meetings. ‘Ok, now that Javi has successfully booked himself some extra time learning Power Basics with Tracy, let’s get down to business,’ Brian pressed on, rubbing his hands together and taking a deep breath. ‘As I’ve already mentioned: we have had some new arrivals today. It will be up to all you old hands to make them feel welcome and to try not to terrify them with the full force of your personalities just yet-’

‘You hear that, Yuzu?’ someone called to the sound of laughter and teasing cries of agreement as Yuzuru’s expression twisted into something between outrage and amusement.

‘Hey! No fair!’ he protested.

‘Yeah, Scott – it’s not like Yuzu was the one who woke up an entire floor of people two weeks ago because his team lost,’ Javi offered, looking pointedly over at the man who’d spoken – who was standing on the wall in amongst Yuzuru’s group – and getting a wide, unashamed smile in return.

‘Hey, it was an important game! It went to the wire! What did you expect me to do?!’

‘Let us all sleep?’ Yuzuru suggested.

‘How could you _sleep_?!’ Scott demanded. The girl beside him shoved him, hiding her despairing laughter in his shoulder whilst Yuzuru and Javi protested through their own laughs.

‘Back to the point…?’ Brian interjected hopefully. The laughter died down and people looked back over at him, smothering their smirks. ‘Ok. So, in your sessions tomorrow you’re probably going to be going over some more basic things, and I’m going to ask those of you who aren’t new to be patient and remember what a learning curve it was for you when you first arrived. I know much of what we do here is public knowledge these days: but seeing is different to doing and there’s a lot the public have yet to find out about. Some of the hands-on stuff can be draining at first and you all need to be understanding and keep an eye out for anyone struggling. For those of you who are new: welcome, I hope I’ll get the chance to talk with you all one-on-one at some point, and hopefully you won’t find things too difficult to get to grips with here. We’re a friendly bunch – don’t be fooled by this rabble right now and their constant heckling, everyone here is welcoming and understanding and, for all they can be nightmare to me, and occasionally to each other, nothing is done in malice, of that much I am sure. Everyone here will look out for you and they won’t judge you if you feel like you need a listening ear or a little time out here or there. If you’re struggling, your mentors’ doors are always open: you’ll find their details in your welcome papers and you’ll all have meetings scheduled with them at some point in the next couple of days to just check in and get any immediate worries or questions off your chests.’

 

Brian sighed again then; heavier this time. He had a gentle, expressive face, a little rosy in the cheeks and wrinkled slightly at the corners of his eyes – he looked, permanently, as though he had just been laughing, but still, somehow, a worry sat deep in his eyes in that moment. Shoma wondered if that worry ever really left him. He felt for him: the man must lose a lot of sleep for the sake of this place, he supposed. ‘Some news on the Canadian government study: they still want to continue funding, even though it’s proving to be more complicated than the research team thought at first. As most of you will know, they need to take a look at what actually happens to the chemical structure of things which have been healed, so they’re looking for some Healers to maybe come and volunteer their time this Wednesday to help with some of the tests. And before anyone asks: yes, that would count as a valid excuse for not showing up to Wednesday lectures, although I do expect you to at least attempt to catch up on what you miss from those who do attend. Tracy will be keeping her eye on you and I don’t want you to assume she will go easy on you just because her tolerance level is higher than mine. She is still my right hand, and none of you should take her patience for granted.’ Brian looked knowingly around at the contrite, if a little amused, faces in the crowd, his eyes sparkling benevolently. ‘Well, unless there’s any questions then that’s the main news. The one other thing I needed to tell you all is that a Japanese TV crew will be around during the course of next week, filming some things for a documentary piece. They will be under strict instructions regarding what they can and can’t film and where they can and can’t go, and if any of you are uncomfortable in any way you are more than welcome to come and tell me your concerns and I will look at relaying them to the crew and laying down more ground rules to smooth things out. I know none of us like feeling we have to put on a show, but sadly we need some good PR right now given the speed at which the Grey Zones have been spreading lately.’ A small frown creased his forehead for a moment but he shook it away. ‘Now, I hope you all enjoy what’s left of your day off – newcomers, if you need anything at any point do not hesitate to reach out and ask, everyone is part of a community here and no one will judge you if you’re feeling overwhelmed. So, with that in mind, make the most of the rest of the day and I will check in with you all as the week goes on.’

 

Before Brian had even finished speaking, people were beginning to pick up bags and stretch and shift. Conversation filtered back in, goodbyes and invitations and jokes all mixing in with each other in a murmur that steadily grew into a melee of sound. Shoma found his eyes wandering back to Yuzuru again; he didn’t want to stare, but he couldn’t help it, Yuzuru’s presence too insistent a hum in Shoma’s ears. He was unfolding his absurdly long legs and stretching up, absently nodding at something Javi was saying and pulling a phone from his pocket. Misha and Evgenia had wandered over there, and when Yuzuru spotted them his face split into a grin and he quickly got to his feet, throwing his arms around them like he hadn’t seen them in fifty years, though Shoma suspected it was probably more like fifty minutes. Yuzuru seemed to throw himself into everything with the same fervour; he was garrulous and genuine and unrelenting, and that was perhaps the one thing about him which didn’t seem any different from the boy Shoma had watched in the press conferences and news pieces. What it was like to see him still – to know the person he was when he finally stopped for a second and caught his breath – Shoma could only guess. But he felt sure that that fierceness (of will, of feeling, of spirit) was something very powerful when channelled into a quiet moment, when given to only one person and not having to be shared with a hundred onlooking eyes.

 

‘Hey, daydreamer: you want to come and meet some of the other guys from Japan? There’s a restaurant we all like to meet up at; even Yuzu comes when he gets the chance.’ Shoma looked up to see Keiji standing over him, eyebrows raised in enquiry. ‘It’s nice sometimes, you know? Stops you from missing home.’

‘Do you miss home a lot?’ Shoma asked and Keiji smiled kindly.

‘Some days. But I get to go back sometimes, at least. I’m lucky. Yuzu hasn’t been able to go home for a long time – not since his hometown became a Grey Zone.’ Shoma nodded solemnly. He’d seen the reports. ‘Come on, lazy bones: get up and come with us. It’ll be fun. We order way too much food and buy drinks with too much sugar and we talk too loudly in Japanese; it makes everyone think we’re secretly talking about them. It’s really a lot of fun.’

‘And are you? Secretly talking about everyone, I mean?’

‘Of course,’ Keiji grinned and Shoma laughed, nodding his head slowly.

‘Ok then. I’ll come. But if there’s going to be a lot of social obligation going on then I’m going to need _a lot_ of sugar in my drink because people round here are exhausting.’ Keiji just laughed and patted him on the back.

‘You’re a misanthrope,’ he said, not unkindly. Shoma pulled a face.

‘I’m just realistic about how much work other people are,’ he replied dryly, getting to his feet.

‘Misanthrope. Disaster. Pessimist.’ Keiji waved a hand dismissively. ‘I can’t decide what you are, but you are _awful_ and we’re going to adopt you as our mascot for punishment.’

‘Urgh,’ Shoma groaned, though he was smiling slightly with it.

‘You’ll love us,’ Keiji assured him brightly.

 

He glanced back across the courtyard then, just for a moment. Yuzuru was slinging a backpack over his shoulder, talking too quickly as he walked off in the other direction. There were still people with him, caught helplessly in his orbit, probably without even realising. Shoma wondered if it was an effort for him or if it came to him naturally. He made things look effortless; his smile was dazzling and it came so easily to his face as he talked, like everything was fascinating to him. He seemed so distant. So other. Like he occupied an entirely different atmosphere to Shoma. But then he looked up, just for a moment. He twisted to glance back over his shoulder, about to say something to someone trailing behind him, when suddenly he paused. And his eyes found Shoma’s immediately. To Shoma’s surprise his eyes shone as he met his gaze and he offered him another of those gentle smiles – tired, but genuine. For just a second he looked exhausted, like the effort of being so magnetic, so _on_ for the group still hovering around him had finally caught up to him. But his face was bright and alive again in a heartbeat, and before Shoma could even think to smile back, Yuzuru had turned away, the moment gone.

 

Shoma blinked, bewildered, and turned back towards the still-talking Keiji. When Shoma looked back as they were leaving, he just caught sight of Yuzuru’s group disappearing up one of the many staircases. They were being trailed, curiously, by a small assortment of butterflies.

 

It was, it turned out, exactly what Shoma had needed, to spend the rest of his afternoon tentatively letting down his guard; even with a group of strangers around him, there was an instant familiarity which was inherent in being able to speak his own language and order familiar food and drink. Keiji had taken it upon himself to sandwich him in the corner of the large booth their group had taken over – protecting him somewhat from the full force of the effervescent bunch – but he was also careful to make sure Shoma didn’t wriggle out of the conversation. A girl named Kanako had quizzed him relentlessly on every topic imaginable, and Shoma had been unable to resent being made to give away so much about himself when she had smiled at him so brightly with every answer he gave, her whole face radiant with delight when he’d made sly jokes under his breath at things the others said and her laugh infectious as she’d pushed and teased him for his awkwardness. By the time they had all gone their separate ways, he had felt less like he didn’t belong, less desperate for the sound his family chiding him for being late down to dinner or the comfortable peace of his childhood bedroom. It was still draining – to be around so many people, to talk for so long, to feel so many different powers so close around him. He supposed he would have to get used to it, living here; he had left a place where his was the only power for miles, though, and he missed not having to almost-constantly suppress the winces and flinches the sudden outbursts of feeling caused. At least he seemed to have fallen into a group who wouldn’t hold it against him: his quietness, his clumsiness, his quietly biting sense of humour.

 

The sky over the Foundation was turning dark; cool and inky, the first hints of stars emerging. Satoko had offered to walk back with him, but Shoma had quietly turned her down; he was grateful for her easy friendship, her unspoken promise that they were in this together now, but he needed to recharge for a while, to be alone with his thoughts long enough to process all the events of the day. To try and shake the nagging sensation that he was in over his head. She’d looked at him like she knew, but she didn’t force him to confess his anxieties and insecurities – just smiled and told him she’d meet him tomorrow for lunch. He’d nodded vaguely by way of agreement, still sipping at the remains of his drink; there was more sugar in it than was wise, considering the time, but Shoma suspected he wasn’t going to sleep that night either way so what did it matter.

 

The courtyard was quiet – empty and peaceful. The only sound was the soft babble of the fountains, still trickling away and making the surface of the water dance in the many pools, now lit from within by small lights embedded amongst their pretty, tiled walls. Despite the many lights still twinkling all around, there was no one in the courtyard and no voices disturbed the peace. It was almost as if Shoma was the only one left out: the ocean could just be heard in the distance, the occasional sound of doors being opened and closed and the swish of the glass lifts making their way up and down the skyscrapers above. He sat down on the edge of one of the pools, crossing his legs, resting his elbows on his knees and letting out a heavy sigh. He jabbed his straw at the dregs of his drink; he felt exhausted, but his head was too full of thoughts for him to risk closing his eyes. The darkness would only encourage those thoughts to pester him more insistently, and he wasn’t ready to deal with them just yet. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when the peace was disturbed; the cool dark growing suddenly a little more electric.

 

He felt him before he saw him. The low, insistent pulse of power. He hadn’t heard him arrive – hadn’t heard his footsteps on the stairs or the sound of his voice – but Shoma had known that when he looked up he would be there. Somehow, he was already a familiar presence to him; like delicate bells in Shoma’s ears. He paused a moment, keeping his eyes down in a pretence of someone unaware, that, somehow, he knew wouldn’t be believed. Then after a second he swallowed, steeled himself and slowly lifted his gaze. He looked up at the person standing beside him through his fringe, curious and uncertain at the same time, and his reward for his bravery was a ridiculously bright – if a little tentative – smile.

 

‘Hi.’ Yuzuru looked different in the dusk; still other-worldly, but somehow more fragile, younger. Shoma swallowed hard, wetting his lips.

‘Hi,’ he replied, his voice rough and low. If Yuzuru noticed Shoma’s nerves he didn’t show it; his smile stayed soft and his eyes stayed bright and Shoma could only blink up at him, his mind drawing a blank.

‘You’re Shoma, right?’ Yuzuru asked, something incredibly open in his expression; something hopeful. Shoma nodded slowly, swallowing again, trying and failing to find his voice. Yuzuru’s smile widened slightly. ‘I’m Yuzuru,’ he said, something endearingly genuine about his need to introduce himself. As though he wasn’t on every news program, as if everyone here didn’t talk about him like he was the centre of their universe. As if his presence wasn’t vibrating in the air around them.

‘Hello, Yuzuru,’ Shoma said slowly, awkwardly. Yuzuru let out a high, happy laugh at being greeted for a second time, his eyes disappearing briefly, crinkling at the corners.

‘Hello, Shoma,’ he said when he recovered himself, still beaming, and he tipped his head to one side, studying Shoma’s face intently. Shoma felt heat in his cheeks and shifted uncomfortably, hoping he didn’t look as horrendously small as he felt. ‘Don’t look so worried – I don’t bite,’ Yuzuru told him with a shrug and a slight roll of his eyes, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly at that, chewing on the corner of his lip and considering the other man for a moment.

‘I didn’t think you did,’ he said slowly. ‘But then I don’t know you,’ he added with a shrug. ‘You’re taller than me and you have more friends, so, if it came to it? You could probably take me.’ Shoma was rewarded with another one of those glorious smiles and a too-loud laugh. He smiled at the sound of it, shy but pleased. Proud that he was the reason for that expression on Yuzuru’s face.

‘You don’t fool me: you act all small and cute, but you are fierce,’ Yuzuru declared, his twinkly eyes knowing and amused and delighted all at once. Shoma felt something in his chest constrict and he tried to swallow, but found his throat dry. Though he had – finally – shaken the rounded cheeks of his youth that had caused him to look younger than his age for most of his life, he did have a tendency to look either half-lost or half-asleep. He knew this, knew what he must look like to someone as sure and confident as Yuzuru. His was still an owlish face, accentuated by wide, dark eyes, an unruly fringe and a broad nose. But that Yuzuru had looked beyond that surprised him, had unbalanced him somewhat. Yuzuru’s eyes danced, knowing, his gaze skimming over the sharpness of Shoma’s cheekbones and the broad strength of his shoulders, assessing and quick. Shoma glanced away.

‘Maybe I’m just stubborn – I think there’s a difference,’ he muttered mostly to his empty cup. Yuzuru hummed slightly, considering.

‘Stubborn is good. Stubborn makes you brave,’ he said, and Shoma looked up at him from the corner of his eye, arching an eyebrow.

‘What makes you think I’m brave?’

‘You came here, didn’t you? Whether you feel at peace with the decision or not, you still made it.’ Yuzuru gave a single, resolute nod of his head. ‘You are brave. I’m sure of it. And you are strong – I’m sure of that too.’ Yuzuru considered him for another beat. ‘Under the surface you are pure power. I can feel it.’ Shoma started slightly at that, eyes widening, and Yuzuru’s smile turned strangely gentle. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell.’

 

Shoma didn’t know what to make of that – didn’t know for sure what it was Yuzuru was telling him he knew or how he had come by the information. He opened his mouth to reply then closed it again, face scrunching into a frown.

‘I’m not as powerful as you,’ he pointed out, and Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘I can do many things, but I can’t steady myself how you do: you are calm even when you’re not. I can see it in your face. There is more power in that than in anything I can do,’ he dismissed. He leant over slightly then, peering curiously at the sleeve of Shoma’s jacket. ‘Healer,’ he remarked calmly, standing straight again and tilting his head to one side. ‘The power to heal injuries, the power to fix what is broken or incomplete and the power to still time and to pull it back, in small bursts at least.’ He counted the powers out on long, slender fingers, his head moving from one side to the other with each one, like he was reciting something he heard reeled off every day. Shoma chewed at his lip again, wanting to move the conversation away from the subject of his power classification, if possible.

‘You can do all that too, though. And more,’ Shoma pointed out. Yuzuru smiled pleasantly, shrugging.

‘A little. I’m not the best.’ Off Shoma’s sceptical look he laughed. ‘I’m not!’ he protested weakly. ‘I have to work harder. Learn more. People assume that because you have many powers, you are powerful, but I always think there is more. To learn to control power and use it well: that is what makes you good, what makes you truly powerful.’ Shoma nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

‘To have strength and to direct it into the right things is a good start, though,’ he said softly. ‘You direct your power well, and with responsibility. You must have a good heart, to do what you do. That’s a power in itself, I think.’ Yuzuru met his eyes, his expression strangely vulnerable – as though no one had offered him such an idea before. Shoma looked back at him, his face open; he wanted Yuzuru to know he wasn’t someone to say anything he didn’t mean. He wanted for him to know that so intensely that for a moment he forgot himself and where he was – all he saw was Yuzuru’s dazed expression, the slight curl of a smile at the corner of his lips.

‘Thank you, Shoma’ Yuzuru said after a beat, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Shoma felt a shiver run down his spine. His name sounded like a spell when Yuzuru said it.

 

The two of them stayed that way, each studying the other, until the sound of someone’s approaching footsteps startled them out of their stupor – the spell was broken, and Yuzuru turned to look over his shoulder at the sound of his name being called across the courtyard.

‘Yuzu!’ A soft, warm voice, one Shoma recognised from earlier. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you: we said we would help Maia and Alex with their presentation for this online talk thing they have coming up,’ the man continued, coming into view out of the shadows and casting a curious glance over Yuzuru’s shoulder at Shoma. He was handsome – dark eyes with long, pretty lashes, a strong jawline and expressive lips – but he looked at Shoma with some vague hint of suspicion that unsettled him slightly and he shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Yuzuru seemed to see whatever that glint was in the man’s eyes too, and he read it instantly, placing a gentle hand on his arm and forcing him to meet his gaze.

‘Javi,’ he said, his tone firm. There was an explanation in there, but Shoma didn’t know what it was – it softened Javi’s expression in moment, though, and Yuzuru responded with an almost imperceptible nod before turning his gaze back to Shoma, his smile brightening. ‘Shoma, this is Javier: he’s an Artist, but, personally, I think he has the fight of a Warrior and the soul of a Healer,’ he explained. Javier pulled a face, rolling his eyes as though he’d heard this speech a hundred times before.

‘Actually, I’m really just an Artist,’ he corrected carefully, offering Shoma a rueful grin. ‘Yuzu doesn’t believe in the lines of power classification,’ he added then, shooting Yuzuru a wry look. ‘I always like to remind him that that’s easy for someone with all his powers to say, but for the rest of us…’

‘That’s not why I think that,’ Yuzuru protested, somewhat indignant, and Javier laughed.

‘Sure,’ he dismissed. ‘Now come on, we have to go. Brian wants to meet with us later and I don’t want to let the Shibs down by cutting out early on them. _Again_.’

 

Yuzuru sighed, folding his arms and looking back at Shoma thoughtfully.

‘Do you believe in magic, Shoma?’ he asked suddenly, apparently unfazed.

‘Yuzu,’ Javier warned, but Yuzuru ignored him, taking a step closer to Shoma instead, and when he spoke again he returned to Japanese, as though shutting Javier out might lessen his irritation at the hold up. Shoma looked between the two of them nervously and Yuzuru narrowed his eyes slightly.

‘Do you believe in magic?’ he repeated. ‘And I don’t mean powers, Shoma. I mean magic: incredible things. Something inside the world that is impossible unless enough people believe in it?’ Shoma considered the idea for a moment, studying Yuzuru’s intense, brilliant face and feeling something in his chest flip over.

‘I think I would like to,’ he replied quietly. Yuzuru smiled, pleased, and Shoma felt inexplicably glad, that his answer was somehow enough. That maybe he was somehow enough.

‘I do too,’ Yuzuru told him softly, sincerely. ‘I think labels and classifications make you think you can only achieve something within a boundary – I think real magic happens when you believe in things, though. When you believe in whatever it is you have inside yourself, whether it matches up to the names for you or not.’ Yuzuru’s eyes gleamed. ‘The universe is crazy – impossible, you know? But it’s here. I try to remember that, when I get frustrated by what I think might limit me.’

 

‘Yuzu, seriously,’ Javier cut in again, sounding tired, and Yuzuru had the decency to look contrite, his expression softening as he looked over at him with an apologetic smile.

‘Ok, I’m coming,’ he said, stepping back and elbowing Javier in the side in a gesture which shouldn’t have been an apology, and yet, Shoma knew, it was.

 

Yuzuru took another step back, offering Shoma a lingering smile by way of a goodbye. He was turning, about to follow Javier off towards one of the staircases, when he paused, twisting back so he was walking backwards, eyes meeting Shoma’s once again.

‘I believe there is starlight in everyone,’ he called. ‘But in some people, Shoma? I believe there is the whole sun.’ Those beady eyes of his were all aglitter again in that knowing way that made Shoma shiver; in that brief moment, the full force of him was focused entirely on Shoma and the intensity was dizzying. But before Shoma could think to question the remark, Yuzuru had turned away, following Javier out of the courtyard and leaving Shoma alone, his skin still prickling and his mind strangely blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're at all interested in how this whole idea came about then please do look up Take That's III Live 2015 tour and listen to their album III - the themes and feelings and visuals from both the album and the tour were what set my brain on writing this story originally and I think maybe they could give you a little more insight into the characters and this world should you want it.
> 
> If you want to come talk to me then my Twitter is @malinda_29 and my Tumblr is endlessmasquerading and...please do come talk to me? That would be kinda fun...? :) But most importantly: thank you for reading this fic that wouldn't leave my brain alone, I can only apologize for unleashing it on the world when no one ever asked me to!


	2. So Open Your Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so it seems you ridiculously lovely people have convinced me I’m not the only one interested in this story idea, so here I am with Chapter Two! I really hope you all will enjoy this and that you still feel for these characters the way you seemed to in Chapter One - I have no clues if this chapter is any good but please be kind with me?! I really hope you enjoy this at least a little...

Whoever was responsible for scheduling Shoma’s meeting with his mentor for first thing in the morning had clearly not consulted anyone who actually knew him. He glowered at his phone from his cocoon of covers; it had fallen on the floor after he had finally – _finally_ – managed to fall asleep at some point in the early hours of the morning, and it was incongruously bright in the dark haven of his room, flashing up at him as the alarm chirruped relentlessly. He couldn’t even shut it off and roll over into his pillow: this bed was strange and unfamiliar, these pillows weren’t squashed and dented and worn-in the way his pillows were at home, and the covers didn’t smell of the same fabric softener his family had been buying for as long as he could remember. He stared blankly ahead as one alarm finally stopped and the next one started, studying the dark outlines of the room around him with tired eyes. He wondered if the sun was up yet, out beyond the closed blinds – wondered what time sunrise even was here. He couldn’t have managed more than an hour of sleep, or if he had it had done him no good, and his head felt too heavy to lift. If he was home he could comfort himself with the thought of the bus ride ahead, dozing against the vibration of the window and jolting awake just in time to make his stop. This morning he had to study maps and schedules and make small-talk with near-strangers instead. The thought made him want to go back to sleep and not get up for a week.

 

In that moment he missed home powerfully; at home he could calculate the risk of hitting snooze, knew the bus schedule well enough to judge what he could and couldn’t get away with and had his brother on hand to start clattering about and yelling at him to get himself up already if it seemed like he’d fallen too deeply back into sleep. But here he was faced with the prospect of having to find his way, having to meet yet another new face and, at least for a little while, having to prevent this new person from finding out he was a hopeless case when it came to timekeeping. Shoma let out a groan and pulled the covers over his head, curling up into a ball. He took a moment in the relative peace of the total darkness to try and sort through the complicated tangle of feelings – it was comforting to realise he wasn’t as terrified as he had assumed he would be, and that the nagging anxiety from the day before had receded somewhat. He knew himself well enough to know that, with time, he could acclimatise: he was cautious and chaotic, but not a complete lost cause. But what he found himself contending with now was overload. Sensory overload, information overload, social overload. He needed to find a way to sort through it all – he needed the space to begin to learn and adjust and adapt – but he wasn’t sure there was ever enough let-up with an environment like the Foundation for him to be able to do that at his own pace. With a huffy sigh he threw off his covers, though he still lay for a good few minutes longer, splayed out on his back like a miserable starfish, staring up at the ceiling and muttering darkly at his still-ringing alarm.

 

Early morning over the Foundation was misty and blush-pink; there was something calm and hazy about the way the sunlight edged everything in gold. For all that Shoma wasn’t a fan of early mornings, he could appreciate that there was something dreamlike about the way the light filtered in. He couldn’t say it was a peace he felt he was matching. His hair was fluffed up and curling from his somewhat rushed attempts to make himself presentable, it fell in his eyes and stuck up in odd places and he had to keep flicking it back across his forehead with wild jerks of his head as he walked. His eyes were still stuck together from sleep and he blinked down at his map groggily as he paused in the courtyard, getting his bearings; he was hiding himself behind his thick-rimmed glasses and the too-long sleeves of his jacket, his shoulders tensing slightly in his effort to shrink in and make himself less conspicuous. Almost no one was around, but he didn’t want to run the risk of encouraging any offers of help: he knew he looked like a lost schoolkid as it was, he didn’t want to be made to feel like one too by being shepherded around. The aim was to blend in – to achieve familiarity by determinedly acting like he really was familiar with everything, like he belonged and he knew it. If there was one thing Shoma knew for sure about himself it was that he could do determined: he could dig his heels in and keep them there when he wanted to. There was untapped fire in him, after all – and maybe that was the real reason he had been so quick to accept his invitation to join the Foundation, the thought that finally something might draw it out and direct it well.

 

The mentors’ offices were located in one of the buildings on the opposite side of the courtyard to the central skyscraper in which Shoma’s room was. It was an angular construction that pointed jaggedly up to the sky almost like a pyramid; it had the same large windows of the other buildings on the Foundation grounds, but the glass in them was darker, tinted to reflect the colours of the sky in a way that made its surface seem to change with the light, the reflections of birds and clouds and the shifting sun moving across it in swirls of liquid pink and lavender, all laced with rose gold. Shoma gazed at it a moment, thinking quietly to himself about how easy it could be sometimes to take colour for granted, even with the looming threat of the Grey Zones. There was no such complacency at the Foundation, though: every detail picked out in every one of its buildings seemed to pay tribute to the magic and variety that colour provided to the world, a deliberate reminder of what they were all trying to protect. Shoma fished his phone out from his pocket, briefly glancing around to make sure no one was paying him any attention; workers and engineers and maintenance staff in their overalls busied about, shop and restaurant workers in bright suits and uniforms strolled by with heads down or headphones in, no one really paying anyone else much mind. Quickly – stealthily – Shoma lifted the phone and took a picture of the angular building in front of him and sent it to his brother. He rolled his eyes slightly when, a moment later, he got a response of “Go back to bed” followed quickly by “Wait, what time is it there??” and, finally, “You’re actually awake right now?! I can’t get you up before noon on a good day! Who are you and what have you done with my brother??” – he could almost hear Itsuki’s mocking whine and it made him feel both sad and fond at once. He shot back a quick “Shut up” and switched his phone off; he was so very tempted to let himself get into a long-distance squabble, the normality of pretending to argue with his brother too appealing, but if he did that then he would definitely be late. Later than he already was. _Rudely_ late. And he really didn’t want to be.

 

There were, it turned out, a lot of mentors, heads of department, managers, administrators and Foundation officials who had their offices in the pretty, watercolour building. Shoma wandered the corridors with a mixture of curiosity and panic, looking at the names on the doors and wondering at the many job titles on the plaques beside them. Some doors had whiteboards hung next to them with appointment lists and times noted down, others had corkboards with messages tacked to them, whilst some were left cryptically blank but for an office number and a nameplate. There was no staircase in the building; to reach the top floors you simply had to keep walking, round and round the building until you reached the top. It seemed an inefficient way of doing things, to Shoma, but it did show off the unusual architecture of the building, he supposed. Occasionally there were walls of TV monitors showing news channels from across the world, whilst on other floors there were walls full of framed art or photographs featuring the Foundation buildings or official portraits of those involved in the running of a department. On one floor there was a wall full of press photographs of some of the Foundation’s PR events and presentations. Shoma couldn’t help but pause in front of a picture of Yuzuru that couldn’t be more than a couple of months old. He was smiling politely as he shook the hand of some foreign diplomat; perhaps to most people he looked the ever-competent professional he was, but Shoma caught something in the expression, a tightness of the muscles in his face that betrayed a barely-contained nervousness, which was strangely endearing in someone who had been attending such events since such a young age. It struck Shoma that he was a master of contradictions; he hadn’t figured out which side of him was the real person behind the show just yet, but he was strangely drawn to the idea of trying to work it out. If he got the chance. Which he probably wouldn’t, because here he was just a new-in-town nobody and Yuzuru shouldn’t know any different. He was the Foundation’s prodigy, the world’s greatest hope. He had a lot of heavy titles to carry, so what good would it do him to have Shoma poking around, looking for the title which most people never paid any mind to: Yuzuru, the human being. Yuzuru had no need to know anything more about Shoma than he already did, and certainly had no time for it. And yet the way he had spoken the previous night still played in Shoma’s mind. The knowing smiles and the talk of the sun. The way he seemed to have sought Shoma out – and somehow managed to find him in amongst the complex network of spaces that made up the Foundation grounds. As if he had been looking – hoping – all day. Shoma moved on quickly, trying to distract himself from the puzzle he wasn’t sure was even his to solve: Yuzuru was a mystery for another day, and probably for another person to deal with. Besides, he was going to be so very late if he kept this up.

 

There were a few people moving about, arriving for appointments and meetings, lingering at noticeboards and talking to colleagues in low voices. Shoma passed a door labelled ‘Boardroom’ and caught the smell of cinnamon and caramel drifting out; through the partially open door he could see people sipping from mugs and he felt a vague sense of resentment. He hadn’t had the time to stop to get anything – he was hungry and sleep-deprived and it seemed unfair that these people had access to some hidden, fancy drinks machine placed exactly where they needed it whilst he was restricted to the cafes and shops outside.

 

His mentor’s office was up on one of the top floors of the building; the board outside her door was covered with notecards and postcards and other trinkets, sweet and pretty and full of words of affection and gratitude, which Shoma had taken as a good sign that she maybe wouldn’t be the sort to hold the fact he was already at least five minutes late against him. He knocked, somewhat hesitantly, and a bright, musical voice called him in; there was no hint of annoyance there, so Shoma took a deep breath to steady himself and opened the door.

 

The room was bright and airy, and the woman who sat at the desk wore a smile as sunny as the light which filtered in through the vast window behind her; the window gave her a perfect view of the glittering blue sea beyond and the light bouncing off the waves created a perfect outline of starbursts all around her. She was smartly dressed, with long, dark hair swept elegantly over one shoulder, and Shoma was painfully aware of his own rumpled old t-shirt and scuffed shoes in comparison. But there was no judgement in the woman’s face. Just warmth. Kindness. Her whole energy was something so pure and genuine that for a moment Shoma was overwhelmed by it, blinking back the sudden rush of something altogether more soft than power, but too strong to be anything else. She almost felt like home.

 

‘You must be Shoma,’ the woman beamed, clasping her hands in front of her and leaning her elbows on her desk. ‘My name’s Mihoko, but then you’ll know that already I suppose,’ she added with a soft laugh, sweeping her hair back behind her shoulders and raising her eyebrows enquiringly at him. Shoma nodded vaguely, offering her a shy smile, and she narrowed her eyes a little, considering him carefully. ‘Would you like to take a seat here or would you rather go somewhere less formal? There’s a lounge on the next floor if you prefer? Lovely views, comfy cushions…?’ she offered then, and Shoma shrugged, blinking himself out of his slight trance.

‘Here is fine,’ he said, pulling at his jacket sleeves and slowly sitting down in the chair opposite her desk when she gestured to it with a reassuring smile.

‘If you’re sure,’ she told him kindly, her expression still warm and welcoming. She was breaking down the walls of Shoma’s shyness more easily than Shoma had really expected, and he smiled back at her – small and cautious – as he gave a slight bob of his head in agreement. ‘Well in that case, I guess we’ll talk here then,’ Mihoko declared, nodding back and tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘I suppose you’ll actually know a little about me from your welcome papers already – and we’re not here to talk about me anyway – but just so you know? I’m a Healer myself, and I work mostly with Healers here, often as a mentor, but sometimes in your sessions and lectures too. Mentoring is my favourite part of my job here, though; I enjoy the chance to meet fresh young talents and meet so many wonderful, powerful people who I can help, even if it is only in some small way. Although I will be honest with you, Shoma: I think you’re perhaps the strongest Healer I’ve ever had assigned to my care, one of the most powerful people I’ve ever been asked to mentor here at all,’ she explained. ‘I’m excited to work with you, to see what you can achieve: Brian has told me wonderful things.’ Shoma stared back at her blankly for a beat, taking a moment to process what she was saying, then a small frown furrowed his brow.

‘Why would Brian Orser know about me?’ he asked and Mihoko laughed softly, eyes glittering with fond amusement.

‘Well how else would you get invited to come here, Shoma?’

 

Shoma’s eyebrows raised in mild bewilderment: he supposed it made sense, but some part of him had assumed the Foundation worked more abstractly than that, contacting local sources for information and making decisions on the advice of a whole network of people, based on what they felt they were lacking at any given time. That Brian Orser apparently took a more personal approach and had such tight control on who joined the Foundation alarmed him somewhat; how had he even known to look at Shoma at all when Shoma had spent most of his life making a conscious effort to remain under the radar? Mihoko seemed to read some of his worries in his face, getting up and coming over to the other side of her desk, perching on it and giving his shoulder a squeeze. She looked at him intently, meeting his eyes with a firm yet oddly affectionate stare. ‘Brian keeps an eye on news of powers from many nations, but Japan is a place he watches closely; our country has produced some of the very strongest people here, after all. And in any case, many of us had heard the story of the accident, Shoma. Of the family you healed.’ Shoma looked down, pulling at the ends of his sleeves self-consciously. He could feel the rusty blush creeping along his jawline, low and hot, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to meet Mihoko’s gentle gaze.

‘I didn’t heal them completely; if I hadn’t have been there right when it happened, it might not have been enough,’ he pointed out in a mumble. Mihoko squeezed his shoulder again, tight and fierce – protective, almost.

‘True, perhaps,’ she conceded, reaching up to tap a gentle finger under Shoma’s chin, forcing his gaze back up to meet her own. ‘But you were only five years old, Shoma: it is remarkable you had the power to do anything at all, let alone the courage to go to them when you saw their car like that. Most five-year-olds wouldn’t have known where to begin with what they were seeing, but you went to them, and you stayed with them until more help came. That speaks to character as much as power, I think. And character is something we very much value here.’ Mihoko hunched down a little, so their faces were almost level, and Shoma stared up at her, sceptical but strangely hopeful with it. ‘You are here for who you are, Shoma, not just what your powers are,’ Mihoko told him, her voice sincere and definite and her kind face lit by the softest of smiles.

 

Shoma looked back at her thoughtfully for a moment, biting at his lip. The reassurance mattered – the idea helped. But he still felt uneasy, more known than he thought he had allowed himself to be.

‘If people here already knew that story, why only invite me here now?’

‘Many people knew many stories when the Foundation was set up – and besides, no decision can be made off one incident alone. More needed to be learned, about you and your abilities…and for some it is better to be allowed to grow up away from the pressure of our business here anyway. Nothing is straightforward in these things. But what it most important is that we did want you here, Shoma. Because of the person you are; because of the way you have used your powers, not only the fact that you have them.’

 

Mihoko shrugged, leaning back a little, still studying his face with a smile. Shoma liked her – trusted her instinctively – and he made no effort to hide his doubts, his eyes wide and his lips just parted. ‘You are stronger than you think, you know?’ she told him then, and Shoma winced.

‘Actually, I think I know exactly my own strength,’ he murmured, looking away again with a sigh. ‘I think that’s the problem.’ Mihoko nodded thoughtfully, slowly, considering the idea; from someone else it would’ve felt like he was being humoured, but Mihoko had a genuineness about her which invited trust, and he knew, without question, anything he told her would never be dismissed out of hand, no matter how ridiculous it might seem. She offered him another smile, tilting her head slightly, her earrings clattering lightly against the ID lanyard around her neck.

‘Strength without direction doesn’t achieve all it could – you feel that is a shortcoming, something raw and untested yet,’ she remarked carefully. Shoma looked back up at her and she arched an elegant eyebrow. ‘And then on top of these doubts, you feel lost because this is overwhelming…yes?’ Shoma thought for a moment, then nodded: it wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough of it to feel like he wasn’t lying, and that was something comforting at least, because he wanted to return her openness with as much openness of his own as he could manage. Mihoko nodded too, eyes sparkling. ‘You feel your own strength doesn’t fit you yet – but you will grow.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, staring her down for just a beat before offering her a small, sly smile.

‘Was that about my height? Because…I don’t think I’m going to get any taller, you know.’ Mihoko laughed, pointing a beautifully manicured fingernail at him and narrowing her eyes.

‘You know what I mean, Shoma,’ she chided lightly, before her face transformed into another wide smile. ‘And what _I_ know now is that you will be a handful! I will always be worrying about you, I think – I can see it in your eyes. You are all mischief and you make no apology for it, even if you hide it well. Brian has brought trouble to my door with you!’ This was something she seemed – oddly – to approve of, as though she secretly relished the idea of someone she would constantly be chasing around after. Shoma was heartened by it, and he offered her a small, cheeky grin in return, shrugging one shoulder idly.

‘It’s always the quiet ones, right?’ he suggested, and Mihoko gave his shoulder a small shove, letting out a delighted laugh and shaking her head at him despairingly.

‘That’s what they say, right? I think I’m starting to believe them now I’ve met you.’

 

He felt a little easier, with how simple Mihoko made everything seem as they talked. But it stayed in the back of his mind: the idea people knew about him, had an opinion of him long before he’d been invited here, before there was even a Foundation to be invited to. Shoma had assumed it had been a more recent incident that had resulted in his invite than the one Mihoko had mentioned – though, logically, he knew the incident with the car accident had received more attention than anything else he’d ever done with his powers. The only thing he could think of when the invite came was the time he healed his friend after a bad fall and accidentally healed a scar he’d had since he was a child in the process. It was something most Healers weren’t able to do and it had surprised many people. It hadn’t drawn any attention from the press, but when Sota’s doctor had examined him later it hadn’t been long before the community of scientists and thinkers and researchers who kept an eye on these things had been intrigued that someone whose powers they’d never heard much of a murmur of before had been able to do what neither magic nor medicine had previously been known to have achieved. And that he’d done it without even trying had been more surprising still. Maybe that was what had finally tipped the balance to bring his name back up the Foundation’s lists, but Mihoko had seemed so sure when she had spoken of the car accident that Shoma felt himself questioning just how long he had really been on the radar of those who kept track of these things. He tried not to dwell on the idea that there had been people out there considering him and his power since he was just five years old. It unnerved him: all those unknown eyes. Yuzuru came, unbidden, into his mind at that. He managed it: the expectation and the scrutiny of distant gazes always on him. And he still stayed standing, strong and at least giving the illusion of being unburdened; Shoma wasn’t sure what would have happened had similar weight ever been placed on his own shoulders, but a part of him wondered if it might have crushed him. And yet Yuzuru had been even younger than him, when his powers had first made the news – Shoma couldn’t even begin to imagine the toll that had to take. Fortunately for Shoma, his own story didn’t find its way into much of the press the way Yuzuru’s had, but the accident had generated a lot of attention: it had made the local news and a little beyond that too. Unsurprising, given what happened. He’d run over to the wrecked car without hesitation, like his power was almost drawn to where it was needed. He’d simply taken off, picking his way through the broken glass, much to his mother’s alarm. It had been headline-worthy, Shoma supposed, with hindsight: it made quite a sight, after all, given just how tiny Shoma had been and just how badly hurt the people he’d healed were. It intrigued people; a lot of power in a very small body, an incongruous world-weariness in Shoma’s young face as he’d answered interviewers’ questions, wide-eyed and timid. Shoma had mostly been spared the wider press, at least. Probably because, when it came to stories of children with powers, they were far more interested in Yuzuru, who by then was already off doing impossible things that he somehow fitted in between schoolwork and playing with friends. He’d only been a little over four years old when his powers had first been discovered – taller than Shoma at that age and already with the poise of someone five times older, gifted in ways no one before had been and with powers which lacked any respect for the limitations of classification. Shoma’s story was less compelling in comparison. All Shoma did was give away strong Healer powers; unusual for his age, but hardly a world-first. Still, it had resulted in enough attention to scare a shy five-year-old into keeping it at that. Somewhere on the other side of the country, an eight-year-old Yuzuru had been putting up with camera crews at his school by then – Shoma had been old enough to see these things, to consider them. And he had been wise enough beyond his years to worry about it. To know that such scrutiny would make him uncomfortable. It had made him more wary, less likely to use his power unless he felt he had to. The Foundation hadn’t existed back then, though, and Shoma wondered if his five-year-old self would’ve been so quick to decide to hold back when it came to revealing his power to people if it had. Maybe he still would’ve been determined to stay quiet: he had been even more stubborn at five than he was now, according to his parents anyway, and he was never a fan of the unfamiliar. But then even at five he had wanted to help people – he had always cared more than he let on.

 

By the time Shoma left Mihoko’s office the sun was bright in the sky, and the Foundation buildings had come to life, people milling about everywhere – Shoma had to bob and weave to make his way back across the courtyard to the residential block. He was surprised by how long he and Mihoko had talked – Mihoko seemed to have a way of drawing him out of himself, and it was impossible to feel anything other than safe and reassured in her ever-gentle company. She was good at coaxing titbits of information out of him that he wouldn’t normally give away so easily, interspersing deeper, more searching questions with talk of more mundane things like his family and who he’d befriended since arriving at the Foundation. Shoma was surprised by how reluctant he was to leave, when the time came – there was something comforting about sitting in Mihoko’s sun-filled office and talking about nothing for a while, and something strangely familiar about chatting with her. She answered Shoma’s questions in a way that didn’t make him feel quite so foolish for his ignorance, explaining some of the finer points of the purpose of their daily schedules and the structure of the Foundation’s management in a blithe, carefree way that made it all seem simpler than it actually was.

 

Shoma made it back to his room in good time, but he still didn’t have much chance to linger there. He made an effort not to so much as glance at his still-unmade bed and instead attempted to do something about his unruly hair and generally unkempt appearance before grabbing his backpack and heading straight back out once again. There was a morning session scheduled on his timetable and, no matter how tired he felt, he knew it wouldn’t do to be absent. After all, this wasn’t a holiday: the Foundation had a purpose, an important one, and he felt a sense of duty to respect the routine they had laid out for him, to appreciate that it must be there for a reason and should therefore be taken seriously. But his hunger still nagged at him slightly, adding to his exhaustion, and he slumped against the side of the lift as it made its way down, weighing up his options, limited as they were. There was a convenience store located on the ground floor of the residential block and, when Shoma glanced at the time on his phone, he was relieved to discover he had made good enough time to duck inside and find himself some form of make-shift breakfast at least.

 

Shoma moved somewhat sluggishly out of the lift, feeling a little dejected at the prospect of the day ahead, and made a beeline for the shop, stifling a yawn. He grabbed himself two energy drinks without hesitation, almost without thinking; caffeine had to be his priority above all if he was going to make it through another day of talking and trying to dodge the prickle of other people’s powers intruding on his psyche. He felt too tired to process the array of packets and brands in front of him as he ducked down into one of the aisles, and his eyelids drooped as he stared, unseeing, at the shelf in front of him. He was practically asleep on his feet when the sound of Japanese voices drifted over to him from somewhere in the maze of high-stacked aisles, stirring him back into alertness, and he rubbed at his eyes, turning to work out where the voices were coming from. Then he stopped in his tracks at the sound of his own name.

 

‘…I know, right?! He said he hoped we didn’t terrorize Shoma too much yesterday then. So I told him he had no room to talk.’

‘As if he would even know that though: Yuzu is all arms and willpower – and he always forgets how much his reputation goes ahead of him when new people come here.’

‘I don’t know. Shoma doesn’t seem like the sort to care too much about someone’s reputation.’

Maybe that’s why Yuzu cares so much – he probably appreciates not having to live up to some big idea of himself for once.’

‘I didn’t even know he knew who Shoma was, honestly. I asked him about it and he just told me he always knows who the new people are, and when I pointed out he’d never asked me about any of them by name before he just rolled his eyes at me like I was being ridiculous and told me he’d talked to him already.’

‘For someone so quiet, Shoma can really network, hey?’

‘I’m sure he’s not as innocent as he looks.’

‘We know he’s not; he gave as good as he got yesterday! I’m looking forward to him joining our group. He will keep us all in check, I know it.’

‘Oh, but that face though! Mao, he is so precious, I just want to hug him!’

‘Kana! This is why Yuzu doesn’t trust you with him, you know.’

‘Hey! That’s not fair. I am entitled to love his sweet face as long as I remember to love all his little moody comments too. It’s a balance and I do it so well.’

‘Did Yuzu agree with you about that?’

‘He told me I was a crazy lady. I told him I would tickle him in revenge and he yelped like a little kid when I pinched and prodded at him.’ There was a pause. Then a giggle. ‘He said I was proving his point.’

‘You are _a nightmare._ How are we supposed to make Yuzu think we’re looking after the new guys when you terrify him with your mischief all the time!’

‘Oh, shush. And what of my mischief: you love my mischief!’

‘So does Yuzu. He’s probably just worried; he cares a lot about people being happy here because he wants everyone to succeed. And maybe Shoma is important for some project he’s looking into – did he say anything about why he cared so much about you teasing him?’

‘Not really. He told me to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks and not to underestimate him, and I told him I’d already failed to not pinch his cheeks and that Shoma had threatened to push me off the cliff in revenge.’ There was a shameless laugh then ‘He said it served me right – I think he remembers when I first came here.’

‘You were merciless with him – as though you weren’t just as young as he was!’

‘But he was so cute – always blushing. He would turn pink when we teased him; now he just pinches our arms right back and laughs at us like a mad man when we yell and squeal.’

‘When he actually shows he does. When was the last time he came out with us?’

‘I invited him to come with us for lunch today. He told me he couldn’t – I don’t know why. Maybe he’s doing something with Javi…’

‘Or maybe he’s worried about the TV crew. Brian will have told them no interviews, but it won’t stop them hunting Yuzu down. They always do, right?’

‘I know. And I understand – but we could protect him. There’s safety in numbers. And who is going to send a documentary crew to film a bunch of loud Japanese people sitting round eating and laughing anyway?’

‘You’d be surprised what makes a news piece. But hey, he probably just needs space. You know how he gets sometimes, when there’s so much stuff going on and all that expectation gets piled on top of him.’

‘I know. But I’m just worried he’s isolating himself: he doesn’t do anything outside of sessions anymore, not unless you count all the PR and official visits and whatever else it is Brian has him working on all the time.’

‘If it was up to Brian he wouldn’t even be doing half of it, though – he’s as worried about Yuzu as the rest of us. Tracy helps him balance it all, I think. But it’s getting harder. There’s always more expectations. Javi’s probably keeping an eye on it – he can talk him round better than anyone else, and I trust him to do what’s best.’

‘Maybe. But when was the last time you saw Yuzu let Javi drag him out for the night?’

‘When was the last time you saw him let anyone drag him anywhere for the night? Yuzu is a ghost after dark. He always has been. Maybe he just likes an early night.’

‘Or maybe he’s up to something.’

‘And you wonder why he doesn’t trust you! What would Yuzu be up to?! He’s afraid to breathe too loudly in case the press find out and write headlines on it!’ More giggles and whines of protest ensued, the voices growing a little more distant.

‘He should trust me most of all: I am the sunniest person here.’

‘You are the wildest and you are the best – now come on, we told Dai we’d meet him before sessions, remember? Get your chewing gum and let’s go already, before he gives up on us.’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming – you’re such a nag.’

‘But you love me.’

‘I love everyone.’

‘Kanako, I swear.’

‘ _But you love me_!’ was the sing-song, mocking retort that drifted off in the direction of the till, and Shoma instinctively melted further back into the shop to wait it out until he was sure the two had left.

 

He recognised the voices; Kanako and Mao had been at the restaurant the previous day. They had been kind to him – relentless and teasing, but kind.  He didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping on them after they had been nothing but good to him, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. Yuzuru asking after him was a surprise; a greater surprise was that someone as popular as Yuzuru apparently disappeared into the ether every night rather than heading off with one of his many friends. Shoma absently picked up the first chocolate bar he came across and made his way over to the till, scanning his small ID card that served as his payment before heading back out towards the main doors.

 

It was a near-cloudless day, and the sea beyond the cliffs was so calm the waves were whisper-quiet in the air; the loudest sounds were the breeze catching the leaves of the trees which were planted around the courtyard’s flowerbeds and the splashes of the fountains in the pools. There was also a murmur of conversation in the air as people gathered in scattered groups in every corner of the courtyard, catching up and making plans ahead of the morning sessions – it wasn’t as crowded as the previous day, but Shoma could still feel the spark of so much energy collecting in one place and he shivered slightly despite the heat of the morning sun beating down. Strangely absent was that low, intense pull of Yuzuru, and his absence left a gap in the background hum. Shoma thought it probably said a lot that the absence of that power was every bit as pervasive as the power itself.

 

The light hit the courtyard at a different angle in the morning, bouncing off the many glass panes in the windows of the buildings and sending astonishingly bright reflections all around – everything looked sharper in the blinding light, the colours crisper. The colours at the Foundation were always shifting with the light; it was a kind of magic in itself, something curious and a little overwhelming at times. Shoma paused, just for a moment, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin: it was pleasant, calming, and he let the feeling sink into his bones. For a moment he felt the buzz of the Foundation’s clashing energies melt away, felt the thrum of his own power deep inside him. His mind went blissfully blank for a second, as though he wasn’t standing in the middle of a brand new life which he was having to carve out for himself at a speed he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. He tried not to let his worries back in – tried not to let anything back in. But then somewhere out of the blankness, he felt it: distant, but still out there somewhere, thrumming, reaching out tirelessly as though Shoma had somehow called it to him. Power. Pure power. _Yuzuru_.

 

In an instant Shoma remembered the previous night in the courtyard. The way Yuzuru had appeared from the dusky stillness, smiling at him like he knew. Like he’d found an answer to something in Shoma’s face. Shoma snapped his eyes open quickly and pushed the thought away. Yuzuru was a riddle he had no right to try to solve – and maybe if he left well enough alone, Yuzuru would stop trying to solve him in return, and maybe then that power would stop reaching quite so insistently out towards him. Shoma didn’t want to dwell on the peculiar ache that possibility provoked inside his chest.

 

Shoma was grateful of the distraction when he spotted Boyang and Nathan across the courtyard, sitting by one of the pools, both of them chatting away happily to each other whilst tossing what looked like a rubber ball back and forth between them. Shoma moved towards them almost instinctively; being with people just as new as him would make him feel less like the only one, less lonely and out of place, and maybe they could take his mind off the unknown of the impending session with the other Healers which lay ahead of him, stop him working himself up into needless nerves over what his power might do when challenged.

 

Nathan looked up at Shoma as he approached, smiling readily and giving a slight nod of his head by way of a greeting. Boyang, distracted, flailed wildly at the small ball instead of catching it, sending it splashing into the pool beside him. He gave Shoma a wave, laughing – strangely pleased with himself – and Nathan blinked, bewildered. Shoma bit back a laugh of his own.

‘Slick,’ he told Boyang with a smirk, nodding his head to where the ball was now resting at the bottom of the pool and sitting himself down next to Nathan.

‘Hey, Shoma,’ Boyang grinned, unperturbed, rolling up a sleeve and reaching into the pool to retrieve the ball. ‘I won it,’ he added, waving the ball proudly in Shoma’s face and sending droplets of water spraying across his cheeks that Shoma swiped off with his too-long sleeves, wincing slightly.

‘We went to the arcade last night.’ Nathan explained, sounding both amused and weary at the same time. ‘Boyang here played everything in sight.’

‘And the only thing you won was a rubber ball?’ Shoma asked, eyebrows raised.

‘I wish. He actually made me walk back to the residential block with him hauling about fifty stuffed animals along,’ Nathan grimaced, though the corners of his lips were still turned up slightly.

‘I got a whole bunch of Disney characters. And some sweets. And this isn’t just any rubber ball, either: it _glitters_ – look!’ Boyang beamed, all energy and enthusiasm, holding up the rubber ball again with great pride, his face gleeful with a kind of excitement that Shoma wasn’t sure he’d ever felt over anything, never mind a rubber ball. ‘You really missed out,’ Boyang told him, and Shoma nodded, slow and sceptical but not wanting to hurt his feelings. Boyang’s whole energy felt boundless and genuine, and Shoma suspected he thought most things to be a great adventure, even the profoundly mundane. It seemed wrong to try and take that away from him – it was something Shoma rather admired, if he was honest.

 

‘I’m impressed you’re even here, Sho: I thought you’d probably sleep through your alarm and not make it out of bed ‘til, like…Wednesday,’ Nathan put in, nudging Shoma teasingly. ‘You looked dead on your feet most of yesterday,’ he added with a grin.

‘Never going to happen,’ Shoma said, matter-of-fact. ‘I set, like, ten alarms every day,’ he added then, flicking a glance up at Nathan and shrugging, a hint of a smirk on his lips. ‘My alarms have alarms at this point – I’d just have to live in my bed otherwise. Which would be fine, but I have to eat, you know?’ Nathan laughed. ‘Besides: if I was going to sleep through my alarm, Wednesday would be way too early. We’re probably looking at next month if that happens,’ Shoma added, wrinkling his nose.

‘Can’t argue with that logic,’ Nathan smiled in reply, eyes bright and amused.

 

Nathan and Boyang resumed their game of catch, passing the ball back and forth over Shoma’s head as though he wasn’t even there. Shoma rolled his eyes, ducking down slightly to keep out of the way and pulling out the chocolate bar and one of the energy drinks from his bag. ‘Please tell me that’s not your breakfast,’ Nathan lamented when he saw them, reaching up to catch the ball again without looking. ‘That’s crazy, you can’t live like that,’ he declared, shaking his head despairingly at Shoma, who pulled a face and lifted one shoulder in a somewhat defensive shrug.

‘I ran out of time for anything better. If I don’t go with this then it’s nothing, and if that happens then I’ll probably just fall asleep and drown in this pool or something.’

‘Nope. Not an excuse. I’m getting a headache just looking at you right now: you do realise you’re going to crash when the caffeine and sugar wear off, right?’ Nathan asked him, incredulous but laughing all the same, and Shoma nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his drink and flashing Nathan a small, wicked smirk.

‘Remind me later when you find me asleep on the stairs or whatever,’ he remarked casually. ‘I won’t hear you, because I’ll be the closest thing to dead a still-breathing person can get. But you can remind me anyway. My brother’s never let my lack of consciousness stop him before,’ he added with another shrug, and Nathan laughed again, giving a small shake of his head before chucking the rubber ball back over to Boyang, sending it in a high arc over Shoma’s head.

‘We’re going to have to stage some sort of intervention if you keep this up,’ he said lightly. ‘Although me and Boyang went for breakfast together today, and we ended up at that pancake place Adam and Ashley were talking about – so we’re probably not the best people to lecture anyone on healthy eating right now.’

‘Where would be the fun in not having pancakes on our first full day?!’ Boyang asked with immense feeling.

‘Thanks. Rub it in why don’t you,’ Shoma joked, and Nathan grinned at him, elbowing him teasingly.

‘Cheer up, it could be worse: you could’ve actually come with us for pancakes and had to watch Boyang here attempt to eat a plate piled up so high it was probably taller than you are.’

‘But I want to try every topping!’ Boyang told Shoma with delight. ‘They have so many!’ Shoma let out a small, jealous whine, looking down at his chocolate bar somewhat forlornly.

‘Don’t. I’m so hungry,’ he moaned softly.

‘That’s ok: we’ll form our own meal club and have meetings every day. We can make it our mission to try everything on every menu here – it’ll be awesome,’ Boyang nodded in reply. Shoma groaned again, letting his head fall back as he scrunched up his face in distaste.

‘That sounds exhausting.’

‘To be fair? I’m with Shoma on this one,’ Nathan agreed quickly. Boyang pouted and Nathan laughed. ‘It’s true! We’ve been to one pancake place together so far and I feel like I need a vacation already. You make choosing so stressful!’

‘But there’s so many options, you can’t take it lightly,’ Boyang insisted.

‘Yeah, but you practically pulled my arm off when I didn’t have a different side to you so you could see what it was like.’

 

Boyang was pouting at Nathan again, and Shoma looked between the two of them with amused curiosity. ‘Stop pouting! You can’t be mad at me right now, especially after you practically sent me flying into Yuzuru earlier,’ Nathan told Boyang with a grimace, laughing slightly through it.

‘Yuzuru was there?’ Shoma blinked and Nathan shrugged.

‘Yeah, well, sort of. He wasn’t at breakfast with us or anything – Boyang was getting pretty enthusiastic about pancake toppings as we were on our way out, and he didn’t exactly look where he was going. He ended up tripping and totally throwing me off balance too; I was heading for a pretty epic faceplant if Yuzuru hadn’t been coming the other way up the stairs. I think I’m lucky I didn’t accidentally kill him, honestly.’ Nathan was wincing, a slight blush forming as he talked. ‘That probably would’ve made for some awful headlines, given how much grief the US press has been giving him for not saving the world yet. They’re trying to act like an American probably would’ve done it already, which is kind of dumb, honestly – but I don’t think assassinating the competition on my first full day would go down well with anyone’s media.’ He let out a small laugh. ‘Yuzuru was pretty fast, though, considering we kinda ambushed him: he pretty much caught me, and we all lived to see another day and all but…it was kinda embarrassing to meet _the_ Yuzuru Hanyu for the first time like that.’

‘He was laughing about it though – I don’t think he thought we actually meant to try and kill him or anything,’ Boyang pronounced. Shoma laughed at the sincerity in his voice, as though a genuine fear of causing an international incident was the true source of Nathan’s embarrassment. He glanced over at Nathan with an eyebrow quirked, and Nathan shrugged, wrinkling his nose and running a hand through his curls somewhat shyly.

‘It was fine, I guess. I’ll get over it.’ He laughed again then. ‘Yuzuru was pretty cool about it, actually. It’s funny but…for someone who seems to be wound so tight all the time, he’s kind of pretty chill in person, you know what I mean? I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t know what I was expecting but…not for him to be so…unbothered, you know? You can tell he’s used to being on show, like, a lot of the time, but…he’s totally genuine with it too. It’s kinda awesome, honestly.’ Shoma couldn’t help the small smile that touched his lips at that, and he glanced down, nodding slowly.

‘Yeah. I get that,’ he said quietly.

‘Have you met him?’ Boyang asked, beaming wildly. Shoma gave a tentative nod, but Boyang hardly noticed. ‘He was really nice; he knew our names already and everything, and what powers we had.’

‘It’s literally written on your jackets, you know that, right?’ Shoma pointed out and Boyang rolled his eyes.

‘We weren’t wearing them then!’ he said, as though it was obvious, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him sceptically, glancing at Nathan for confirmation.

‘Actually, he’s telling the truth. Yuzuru was totally down with both of our powers and our backgrounds and everything – he knew stuff from the press back in the US about me, and he told us both he thought our powers were really strong and that he could learn from us. The guy doesn’t believe his own hype at all – which is kind of crazy, honestly, because I’ve seen some of the stuff he can do on TV before and that hype is totally justified. But he doesn’t go for it at all. It’s cool, it helps you feel less star-struck and whatever, you know?’

 

Shoma nodded vaguely, avoiding meeting Nathan’s gaze. He wanted to hide the dull ache of disappointment he was feeling. He looked down at his hands, hoping the others wouldn’t notice the shift in his mood and trying to keep his expression neutral. He knew he was being silly, that it was pathetic to be upset about something as ridiculous as finding out Yuzuru Hanyu seemed to know everyone’s names, everyone’s strengths, and not just Shoma’s. That he was simply well-informed and universally curious. Shoma felt foolish for having let himself believe, even for a moment, that Yuzuru’s knowing smiles had meant anything. He felt wounded to realise he probably wasn’t anything special, and he felt stupid for having allowed himself to think that Yuzuru – charming, effervescent Yuzuru Hanyu who had spent a lifetime dealing with people – could have spent any greater amount of time thinking about Shoma than he had about anyone else at the Foundation. He had allowed himself to be disarmed by those glinting eyes and that wild laugh, he had indulged in the fantasy that maybe someone out there saw the fire in him that he had spent so much of his life trying to keep down, and maybe they even knew what to do about it. He realised now how unlikely it was that that person – if they existed at all – was ever going to be someone as powerful and magnetic as Yuzuru.

 

‘He’s really friendly – I hope he’s in one of the same sessions as me soon,’ Boyang was saying, sounding almost dreamy.

‘Yeah, he said he goes between sessions on the days when we’re split by powers, depending what he thinks he needs to work on. He’s in with the Artists today, I think he said,’ Nathan agreed. Shoma gave another vague bob of his head, still looking resolutely down at the ground and swallowing hard. He tried not to think of talk of sun and starlight, tried not to think about delighted laughter and hushed compliments. ‘I hadn’t really thought about being in sessions with him or anything. I’m still just kind of amazed he’d taken the time to look us up, you know? It’s not like he gets a say in who comes or anything, he just goes out of his way to do his research; like, he likes to know what sort of powers are out there and how different people use them or whatever? I didn’t really follow all of it when he was talking, but it was a pretty cool philosophy.’ Shoma hummed, playing with his sleeves.

‘He talked about magic and impossible things, right?’ he asked absently, looking up at Nathan from the corner of his eye.

‘No,’ Nathan frowned, looking back at Shoma in bemusement. ‘He was mostly talking about how he felt he still had a lot to learn from people who he thought used their powers better than him.’ He narrowed his eyes at Shoma then. ‘Why? What did he talk to you about?’ Shoma jerked slightly, sitting up a little straighter and blinking, bewildered.

‘The same,’ he lied in a small voice. Nathan didn’t look convinced and Shoma shrugged one shoulder lamely. ‘You know, how magic is…not everything and…maybe people say his powers are impossible but they exist so he has to…use them…well…?’ he offered haltingly, pulling a face. ‘I wasn’t following; I was pretty tired, so…’

‘Right,’ Nathan said, dragging the sound out sceptically, still studying Shoma with a curious frown that Shoma pretended he didn’t notice.

 

It was welcome relief that Boyang – apparently oblivious to Shoma’s stumble – started off on a tangent to do with pancake toppings that Shoma made no effort to follow. His mind was straying. Back to ink-blot skies and his name murmured like a spell. He was almost scared to let himself think that maybe there was something in it after all; it felt absurd to entertain the thought again so quickly, but he couldn’t not. Something in his chest constricted and he tried to swallow it down. It proved nothing, that Yuzuru hadn’t asked Nathan and Boyang all the same questions, hadn’t lingered with them as long; maybe he was just more comfortable in the company of someone else Japanese, maybe he’d simply had more time on his hands last night. Maybe Shoma had inadvertently been taking up the spot he normally took for himself when he wanted to be alone. But Shoma couldn’t forget the feeling he’d had when Yuzuru had smiled at him, when he’d listened so intently to what Shoma had to say and thanked him in return for the few words he offered. Like it mattered that he’d spoken at all. Like _he_ mattered. It had hurt to think for even a moment that that hadn’t been real, and it seemed like a gamble to let himself dwell on the possibility again now. But he couldn’t help it. Because there had been a promise in the way Yuzuru had looked at him. He just wasn’t sure what it was a promise of. Everything about him was secrets and spells and Shoma couldn’t pretend he wasn’t fascinated – couldn’t act like some part of him hadn’t come alive when he’d felt the intense pull of Yuzuru’s magic all around him and seen the knowing glint that lit his eyes as he studied him. _I won’t tell._ Shoma shivered.

 

‘Hey, where did you go just now?’ Nathan asked, clicking his fingers in front of Shoma’s face. Shoma blinked, looking at him for a beat then rolling his eyes.

‘Back to bed, maybe?’ he said dryly. ‘Or to get pancakes.’ He shook his hair out of his eyes and wrinkled his nose. ‘Just somewhere where I had time to live my life in peace.’ Nathan smirked at him, elbowing him in the side and picking up his backpack.

‘No such luck: we’re on the move.’

‘Urgh.’

‘Hey, it could be worse: you could be in Boyang’s group today…oh, wait…’

‘Hey!’ Boyang protested as Nathan laughed. ‘That’s so mean! What’s wrong with being with me all day?!’ Shoma groaned again.

‘Please go easy on me,’ he said in a whine, and Boyang grinned back at him, shameless and sunny.

‘I go easy on everyone,’ he assured him, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

‘Yeah, just be really careful around him when you’re going up and down stairs and you’ll be fine,’ Nathan put in with a sly smile.

‘I said I was sorry,’ Boyang shot back with an exaggerated pout as he and Nathan got to their feet, each one of them taking one of Shoma’s arms and pulling him to his feet. ‘Come on. It’s going to be fun: I can feel it!’ Boyang told Shoma brightly. Shoma let out another moan of disgruntlement.

‘Why do I feel like you’d say that about basically everything ever?’ Boyang and Nathan simply laughed at him, pushing him in the direction everyone else was heading and handing him his backpack.

 

‘I’m making it my mission to make you smile,’ Boyang insisted as they walked off. Shoma looked at him warily then glanced back at Nathan, who shot him a smile.

‘I’d put money on him wearing you down before lunch,’ he shrugged. Shoma looked back at Boyang then, who flashed him the most delighted, toothy grin he could muster, and he huffed slightly, suppressing a smirk.

‘This is going to be a long day,’ he muttered darkly, though his eyes were shining, and the very corner of his lips quirked up.

‘That is totally a smile already, you know,’ Nathan pointed out and Shoma narrowed his eyes determinedly.

‘Never happened,’ he shot back, shaking his head, mischief still dancing in his eyes as Nathan laughed and gave his hair a ruffle that Shoma tried and failed to duck away from.

 

The building in which the daily sessions were held was yet another glass construction; curved and sloping much like the hull of a ship, the window panes ever so slightly iridescent so that the whole sweep of the building’s perimeter seemed to shimmer like fish scales. Inside the space was lit to look like every square of glass was a different colour of the rainbow, garish and magical, and the entire back wall of the ground floor was given over to a large water feature that curved with the building’s edge, sending rainbow reflections left and right. The upper floors were full of different training spaces, lecture halls and research rooms – it was one of several such buildings, each one dedicated to a different sector of the Foundation’s inhabitants, though it was the largest of all of them and was devoted exclusively to sessions for those with powers. The first three floors each belonged to a single power classification: The Artists’ floor was first, lit in bright pinks and tropical greens, then the Warriors’ floor was after it, lit like a night’s sky, all midnight blues and glimmer, every surface shimmering like stars, and finally there was the Healers’ floor, which was white and gold and airy, open and calm in a way the previous floors hadn’t been, even with the many people drifting around the space.

 

Even though it was almost time for their morning session to start, some people were still idling outside the doors of the lecture hall their session was being held in, leaning over the railings to look down at the entryway below as they waited for friends, or sneaking in some last minute time with their phones on the soft, comfortable seats which were scattered around the space. Everyone at the Foundation had an easiness about them that way; Shoma supposed it was the best way to cope with the reality of the duty they were entrusted with here, the only way to keep a clear head and not crumble from the pressure of knowing that, out beyond their glass fortress, the Grey Zones were still spreading. Shoma understood that: the importance of calm against the odds. He had a cool, deep place inside himself that he disappeared into sometimes; he could almost switch himself off when he needed to, a form of self-preservation he relied on when things became too much. It was hard for him at the Foundation, however – everyone else’s power created so much static in his head it was difficult to shut off completely, to turn himself to steel, and he missed it. He missed the quiet. He missed the reassurance of knowing inside him there was something constant, something which would always hold him strong.

 

Shoma allowed Boyang to link his arm through his and half-drag him towards the lecture hall doors without protest; he barrelled into the double doors with a joyous sort of abandon that Shoma couldn’t match, but also couldn’t begrudge. It was a different form of strength to his own and he appreciated that; where Shoma’s strength was all fight and fire, Boyang’s was light, carefree confidence and an imperviousness to embarrassment. He looked at Boyang’s delighted expression and almost laughed – no one should ever be that excited to see a room in which they were going to be trapped for the next few hours, learning and training and concentrating.

 

‘Shoma! Boyang! Hey!!’ Shoma glanced across to see someone bounding towards them, looking for all the world like a Labrador puppy let off the leash for the first time. He widened his eyes in mild alarm as the man practically bounced up to them, offering out a hand to shake that Boyang took immediately. Shoma was a little more hesitant, but he managed a small nod of greeting all the same. He recognised him, but couldn’t quite reach for a name, and he smiled in what he hoped was a friendly, encouraging way. ‘We met yesterday for, like, a second: I’m Jason,’ the man introduced himself brightly, smiling like he didn’t mind being totally forgotten, and Boyang offered him a grin.

‘I remember! Hi!’ he beamed, waving, and Jason laughed, returning the enthusiastic wave with such force it was almost ridiculous, given how close he was standing.

‘Hi!’ he grinned back. ‘I’m so glad you found the place ok: I know they give you maps but most people don’t look at them, you know? When I first got here I lost my map on my first day and ended up trailing Ashley around, hoping she wasn’t going into some special Warrior Powers Only Area or something. I must’ve accidentally walked into about six different sessions I wasn’t even supposed to be in, it was awful – I was so embarrassed, but everyone just brushed it off. Ash and Adam have never let me live it down though. So, yeah: you two are already doing super-well for finding the Healer session first time out.’ Shoma blinked at the torrent of words and Jason pulled a face, covering his eyes with his hands. ‘Sorry, I’m going too fast, right?’ he said, peeking out from a gap between his fingers and flashing them a smile. ‘I’m a motor-mouth, I’m so sorry: you probably have a whole heap of unanswered questions about what you’re even doing here, right?’ Jason nodded, as though answering himself. ‘I’m terrible. You can ask me anything, I won’t judge. Like, at all.’

‘We train, right? Like do stuff with our powers and try and make them strong?’ Boyang offered, half-question, half-statement, and Jason nodded enthusiastically, encouraging and open.

‘Sort of. I mean…everything we do here has a purpose, you know? The talks and the sessions and the research – it’s all based on theories people have put forward about how powers can be used to tackle the Grey Zone problem. So I mean, today, with the power-specific sessions, it’s all based on the idea that our powers are almost like a muscle, right?’ Jason looked from Boyang to Shoma, making sure they were keeping up with him. Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking the theory through.

‘Like…you build it up by using it, you train it and hope it’ll grow,’ he said carefully.

‘Exactly!’ Jason nodded, his face splitting into a bright, friendly smile, as though Shoma was the one to have come up with the theory by himself and Jason thought him supremely clever for it. ‘It’s like stretches, but for powers; we split off into power classifications because it’s simpler, we can all work on the same tasks and help each other. It’s a kinda fun, easy start to the week. Most days we’re all mixed in with each other, though, like, just every power, helping each other and having a good time. Testing theories, using powers for fun projects, looking at experiments the other departments are doing, that kind of thing.’

‘So we get supervised for all this? By, like, teachers and trainers and stuff?’ Boyang asked.

‘The mentors basically run everything: I mean, Tracy and Brian handle a lot of the big stuff when it comes to powers, especially for this week because there’s so many new people, but there’s a whole heap of different mentors and speakers and researchers here who come in and work with us.’

‘So mentors don’t just mentor then?’ Boyang frowned. Shoma tilted his head thoughtfully.

‘Why are they called mentors if they’re basically just teachers?’ he questioned with a frown, trying to unpick the complex language the Foundation seemed to have created for itself. Jason laughed at him, not unkindly, and pulled a face.

‘I mean, they do a lot of mentoring too! But they could be called a lot of things, I guess; mentor just seems to cover it the most. They’re everything, really: advisors, teachers, coaches, managers, trainers, lecturers…some of us think of our mentors like family, especially the guys who’ve been here since the early days. And lot of the people with Brian and Tracy are some of the most powerful here too, so their relationship with them is like another level on top of that because they have to go off on visits and PR stuff with them sometimes, or work on bigger projects or outside requests from governments, that kind of thing. But ultimately they’re all just here for us. To guide us and help us really achieve something with the powers we have, whilst also making sure we’re in the best possible environment to learn and grow. They keep track of the more serious stuff too, I think so we don’t have to worry too much about it ourselves – they like to take our minds off what we’re tasked with here so it doesn’t feel like too much pressure.’

‘They have powers themselves, right?’ Shoma frowned. Jason nodded.

‘Most of them. Not all.’

‘So why don’t they train – what separates them from us? Why are they different?’

‘I guess experience: a lot of them really were teachers and coaches before they came here. Also, a lot of them have powers but they’re not strong, you know? Their strength is in their ability to help others and in their research into powers more than their powers themselves. Tracy gave a lecture on it once but I think I was probably talking at the back, which is so bad of me because actually Tracy’s lectures are super-fun and super-interesting most of the time. Oh, and just so you know? Everyone moans about Wednesday Lectures but they’re actually pretty cool. So many people come in and talk about so many different topics – it’s supposed to help spark off our own ideas and theories, like giving us a kickstart to maybe come up with something we can test out next time we train, or even pass on to the guys doing research and whatever. Sometimes we even get to present stuff – when we’ve done a project the mentors think has merit or whatever.’ Jason shrugged, waving a hand at the lecture hall behind him and sighing. ‘I know it seems like school, but it’s actually pretty fun. As long as you don’t think too hard about…you know…the fact we’re basically trying to save the world here.’ He pulled a face. ‘I know how bad it sounds, but you kinda have to block it out most of the time, otherwise you’ll just get way too stressed and you won’t get anything done because you’ll just go crazy.’

‘How can you block it out when every day revolves around it?’ Shoma asked, worrying at his bottom lip. Jason’s smile softened and he reached out, squeezing his arm comfortingly.

‘It’s really not so hard – you’ll see.’

 

Shoma looked at him – really looked. His eyes were kind and filled with light and, despite how quickly he talked, Shoma found his energy calming. His power didn’t prickle and dance the way so many others’ did; it spun, constant and light, strangely graceful and winding. His power was soft but forceful – everything about his energy was – and it was welcome relief to Shoma. For all his boundless energy, Jason possessed a natural gentleness, and he was perceptive too, his expression earnest as he offered Shoma yet another reassuring smile. ‘I think for most of us it’s enough to know that we’re doing something, you know? At least we’re trying to play our part and have a little hope and faith that this thing can be fixed. And it helps having this community to do it in.’ Shoma nodded slowly, thoughtfully, and Jason squeezed his arm again. ‘Besides, we’re not stuck with it every day: we get weekends off, and Friday we get private study too which is good.’

‘Is that when we have to catch up on school work?’ Boyang asked with obvious distaste. Shoma laughed at him, rolling his eyes.

‘My uni work actually seems pretty appealing right now,’ he sighed. ‘This stuff is all such high energy, and there’s so many people everywhere – at least with my uni stuff I can hide in my room making notes and breaking off to play games whenever I want.’ Jason laughed at him, shaking his head.

‘It’s not as crazy here as I’m probably making it seem, I swear,’ he said. Shoma pulled a face and Jason laughed again. ‘Well at least we know where to find you on Friday,’ he joked.

‘As a general rule, if I’m missing? I’m probably not missing. I just decided to stay holed up in my room and not deal with anything ever again,’ Shoma shot back dryly, and Jason shook his head, laughing.

‘No! You mustn’t!’

‘Shoma doesn’t like people,’ Boyang said, matter-of-fact, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Don’t say that, you make me sound awful. I like people fine. Just…not loads of them all at once. Or ones who spend ten minutes telling me about pancake toppings when I’m hungry.’

‘I said I was sorry! You and Nathan are so mean!’ Boyang protested. Shoma pulled a face and Boyang stuck his tongue out at him, and they jostled at each other playfully for a moment. ‘You’re so dark and moody, we need to get you pancakes with a smiley face to cheer you up,’ Boyang declared. Shoma laughed despite himself.

‘How are you so relentlessly positive?’ he groaned, and Boyang grinned at him proudly.

‘It’s my super power!’ he grinned. Shoma couldn’t help but smile at him, shaking his head.

‘You do realise you have actual powers already, right?’ he pointed out.

‘Boring ones that lots of people have. Making people smile is way cooler,’ Boyang insisted. Shoma’s smile softened slightly.

‘Ok, now you’re making me seem really lame, because that was actually pretty sweet and I don’t have a comeback,’ he laughed, before looking back over to Jason who was watching them with amusement. ‘Ignore him. Please,’ he begged and Jason smirked.

 

‘So, do the people who aren’t still in school just get Fridays off or what?’ Shoma asked then, trying to get them back on track, and Jason laughed brightly.

‘Wow, you really are dark and moody, aren’t you?’ he joked, eyeing Shoma’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips. ‘Don’t worry: everyone has something on a Friday, you’re not missing out on extra time in bed or anything.’

‘It’s like he knows you already, Sho,’ Boyang grinned and Shoma shot him a playful glare.

‘Some people take jobs in the cafes or shops, others do personal projects, research. I have friends who go down to the dance space and the music studios, some go to the science department and work on projects they’ve come up with themselves. Some do sports. I took a course in Japanese at one point – I’ll have to test it on you some time. I tried it on Yuzu once…he was trying so hard to be nice about it, but I was really terrible back then! I’ve gotten so much better though, I swear! But, yeah…there’s a lot of things open to you, you don’t have to just do schoolwork all day. I think the great thing about this place is that it doesn’t let anyone slip through the cracks. Everyone finds something they need here, Shoma: I promise you. A story, a purpose. A centre of gravity. It can be anything. This place is magic like that – you’ll see.’

 

Sessions were, apparently, fairly laid-back affairs. Jason had invited Shoma and Boyang over to sit with him, talking animatedly about every topic under the sun whilst they waited for the others to filter in and breaking off to call out greetings to people he saw, one or two of them coming to sit with their little group, sprawling out around them, relaxed and at home. Their session was led by Tracy; Shoma remembered her face from the background of the news reports and it was heartening to realise the ready warmth he had seen in her was every bit as present in person. She came over to greet the new faces with gentle smiles and a gentler voice and she teased and joked with those around them as though she saw them as equals; the session had begun, but she seemed to see talking to them all as an important part of it and it was a good half-hour before anyone had even mentioned anything about power at all.

 

‘Well, now I’m all caught up with all you guys’ best gossip, I suppose we’d better get into gear and do some work, right?’ Tracy asked them all with a golden smile that didn’t waver even as she was met with playful whines of protest. She allowed the heckles to go on longer than Brian had the previous day, looking around at them all with benevolent amusement, eyebrows raised slightly and her smile wide. When the noise died down she beamed at them, opening her arms in an expansive gesture. ‘Well alright then! That sounded to me like overwhelming enthusiasm to get up and go on this beautiful Monday morning. So, let’s get started with some basics. And once I’ve bored you all into submission, maybe we can look at trying some new little exercises too.’

‘Tracy is the best, trust me. She looks out for everyone, and she knows how to make it seem like we’re just here for fun,’ Jason had whispered to Shoma, and Tracy had looked over at them with sparkling eyes, as if she’d heard.

 

Jason had been right about Tracy; Shoma found himself somewhat disarmed by her warmth, and as she had talked them through the various exercises it had felt more casual than what Shoma had been expecting when he had looked at his schedule. Whether it was because Tracy felt like indulging them all, or if it was for the benefit of those who were new, Shoma wasn’t sure, but Tracy didn’t give them anything too difficult or taxing. The effort for Shoma was to attempt to rein his power in, and it was surprising how much concentration it took, given that he’d spent most of his life doing it. He supposed he’d never tried to rein it in whilst also simultaneously attempting to pull it out before – it was a difficult balance, and he found it draining. What was more draining still was hiding the effort from his face. A part of him enjoyed the challenge, but Shoma was still somewhat relieved when they were finally sent off their separate ways at lunch time. He felt in desperate need of fresh air and fewer people, and he was grateful that he wouldn’t be expected back inside for a couple of hours. It gave him time to collect himself. To put himself back in order and dispel a little of the tension from his shoulders.

 

Satoko was waiting for him in the entrance hall downstairs, and she smiled at him brightly when she saw him coming towards her.

‘I was about to message you; I thought you might forget we promised to meet for lunch.’

‘Why would I forget when it involves food?’ Shoma asked, eyes twinkling impishly, and Satoko smacked him on the shoulder, shaking her head.

‘The polite answer would be to say you would never forget a promise to a friend.’

‘But that wouldn’t be true: I’m a really crappy friend, honestly,’ Shoma said, deadpan and sharp. Satoko laughed and pretended to strangle him, and Shoma smiled obligingly as she shook him back and forth, her hands gripped tight on his shoulders. She rolled her eyes, falling back into step with him and bumping their shoulders.

‘What are we going to do with you?’ she asked him brightly.

‘Befriend me, apparently,’ Shoma grinned, shrugging. ‘And hopefully feed me, because otherwise the befriending thing will go badly.’ Satoko smiled at him indulgently, fond even as she shook her head.

‘Well fine – I guess that’s a deal. I said we’d meet some of the others, if that’s ok? Kanako said they were meeting on the roof of that building with the plants coming down one side of it – the shopping place? They were going to get pizza I think.’

‘Pizza’s enough incentive,’ Shoma said, nodding his head in vague agreement. ‘It’s not everyone though, right?’

‘I don’t think so. There’s too much to do around here, most people have plans. Keiji will be there to protect you from the girls though, if that helps,’ Satoko teased. Shoma pulled a face.

‘He’s really useless protection when he keeps ruffling my hair.’

‘But that’s got to be better than the elbowing and the cheek-pinching, right?’ Shoma made a non-committal mumble and Satoko smiled. ‘You look like you haven’t combed your hair for a week and half your clothes are three sizes too big, Shoma: you bring it on yourself,’ she told him firmly, giving his sleeve a tug and forcing him to change direction. ‘Now come on, the building’s this way.’

 

The building in question was actually a shopping mall, given over largely to well-known international brands rather than the quirky independent shops that dominated most of the Foundation’s retail units. It was blockish, built of blue-green glass and, halfway down the building, a series of cascading green plants tumbled out from an alcove in the structure, giving the appearance of a waterfall of leaves. Inside it could’ve been almost anywhere, almost any city – the floors gleamed and the central chandelier twinkled and people wandered round with fancy-looking shopping bags, pointing into windows and drifting up and down escalators without much purpose. It was an anomaly in the Foundation grounds, but Shoma could see how it could be comforting to spend time in a place anonymous enough that it could pass as something familiar, at least for a little while. It was strangely reassuring, however, that the building wasn’t entirely conventional: the roof was distinctly more unusual, and the quirky structures of the Foundation rose all around it like a perfect, glinting frame. It served as a meeting space, a small, tropical garden edging around a seating area full of brightly-coloured cushions and oversized daybeds, all fenced in by glass-panelled railings so it was possible to go right to the edge of the building and look down at the people crossing between the buildings down below.

 

When they got there, Mao, Takahito and Kanako were already sprawled on a collection of cushions in the far corner of the space; Shoma was somewhat relieved by Takahito’s presence, reassured that his calmer, more centred energy was there to dispel the dizzying glitter of the combination of Mao and Kanako, who drew each other into a level of brightness that Shoma enjoyed and feared in equal measure. Kanako was warming herself against the sun-drenched glass barrier behind her, with her feet in Mao’s lap, whilst Takahito was showing them something on his phone. All three looked up at the sound of the door to the roof space opening and closing, waving and beckoning Satoko and Shoma over enthusiastically.

‘Shoma! Satton! You made it!’ Kanako greeted them as they dumped their bags and flopped down onto the cushions heaped opposite them. ‘Everyone is so busy this week – I was worried you two might disappear on us too.’

‘You bribed us with junk food,’ Shoma pointed out. ‘I’m never too busy for junk food.’ Kanako laughed at him.

‘I will remember this, Shoma,’ she threatened, her tone solemn like the promise was genuine, even as she beamed impishly back at him. ‘We told Keiji to get us so much food because we couldn’t choose – you’d better help us finish it.’

‘Shoma will eat all of it if you let him – all he’s done is whine about missing breakfast the whole walk over here,’ Satoko grinned mischievously, and Shoma pulled a face at her.

‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘I stopped at least once to ask you if you actually knew where you were going’ he added with sly smile. Satoko laughed at him, leaning in and briefly resting her cheek against his shoulder in what was almost a hug, and Shoma shared a knowing smile with her as she straightened again. Satoko shrugged off her jacket as she settled back against the cushions, and Shoma pretended not to notice the curious look she shot him when he simply pulled his sleeves further down over his hands.

 

‘What were you all looking at when we got here?’ Satoko asked the others, curling around to pillow her head against her arms. Takahito winced.

‘Nothing good,’ he admitted. ‘There’s a new Grey Zone in Singapore; we were going through some of the news reports.’

‘They’re a pretty small island; another Grey Zone is an even bigger disaster for them than it would be for Japan, and far worse than for places like Russia or America. It’s so close to the city itself as well, and the airport – they’re worried it’s only a matter of time. And if the airport goes down…they’ll be cut off,’ Mao said, shaking her head sadly. ‘Somewhere like that becoming a Grey Zone just seems unthinkable – it’s such a colourful, dazzling place. To think of The Snatchers getting their hands on a city that is just so full of innovation…it’s almost as unthinkable as them coming here.’ Mao shuddered and Kanako reached over to squeeze her shoulder.

‘I know, but we can’t think like that, ok? We should focus on the positive; the Grey Zone _didn’t_ spread to the city. There might even be a theory that comes out of that; maybe they’re scared of all the lights coming off the glass or something, you know? There’s probably people down in research already looking up everything they can.’

‘But…what are The Snatchers, exactly?’ Satoko asked, a curious frown on her face. ‘I mean…are they human? And if not then what are they? And how can you research what they’re afraid of if you don’t know that they can actually even feel afraid?’ Kanako lifted one shoulder in an idle shrug.

‘I mean…no one knows _what_ they are. Not exactly. But they can definitely feel fear, or something like it…they must do, right? When people have gone into the Grey Zones from the outside, they’ve tried surrounding their cars and buses and whatever, but they never _do_ anything. Not if the people stay inside.’

‘That’s their thing though: surrounding people. Just sort of…watching things. It’s how they push back people who try to leave the Grey Zones after they’ve moved into them. That’s the way they beat back ideas and anyone not conforming with regular routine too: surrounding people, haunting them like they’re just these energy-sapping ghosts. It’s so sinister,’ Mao put in. ‘Yuzu says they feel hollow – I don’t really know what he meant by that, because I can’t sense power like he can. But the way he explained it, it was sort of like…they were a kind of vacuum? Like there was force there but no light, as though they’re sucking the light out.’

‘Yuzuru can sense power?’ Shoma asked, blinking in surprise. Yuzuru’s many powers were well-documented, but he’d never paid much attention in the past.

‘Yuzuru’s got that close to Snatchers?’ Satoko asked at the same time, and Mao laughed, looking between the two of them with wide eyes.

‘So many questions!’ she joked. ‘Honestly, Shoma? I don’t know what Yuzu can sense. Not exactly. He doesn’t confide in me so much – I think maybe Javi is the only one who really gets to know the full picture. And there’s Brian and Tracy, of course. But I know he senses something – he feels, and he feels with the depth and insight most people don’t. He feels too much, maybe. He doesn’t like to talk about it; he’s sensitive and thoughtful – having so much insight into the feeling and power of others, into their very spirit? I think it is something very intense for him; I’ve seen the look on his face sometimes when he’s trying to hold together his own power and someone else’s invades. He is strong and determined, but he is human. People forget that.’ Mao sighed. ‘He’s not invincible, he’s just good at pretending for the cameras – because that’s what people need to see him as, right now. And he hates to let people down.’

 

Shoma nodded slowly, letting the new information sink in and storing it away in his head for another time. A time when he was alone and could work out what it might mean for him – what it might mean for how he handled it the next time Yuzuru came to him with a knowing smile and asked him leading questions. Mao offered him a kind smile and he smiled back, small and tentative, hoping she wouldn’t ask him what had him so curious about Yuzuru’s powers. He realised Takahito was regarding him thoughtfully; he was an Artist, with a measured, perceptive way about him, and Shoma was acutely aware that he had a clear and unusual world view that allowed him to see more than most. Shoma also knew he was one of those closer to Yuzuru, and that was enough to make him shrink back a little from his gaze. It felt wrong to quiz other people about Yuzuru, after all, and he didn’t want someone like Takahito thinking he was the sort to pry; it was too much like treating Yuzuru as public property, and Shoma didn’t agree with that. He wanted to know Yuzuru as Yuzuru allowed himself to be known by Shoma personally – if he wanted to be known by him at all. He just couldn’t shake the fascination with the mystery of him; the way he pervaded everything at the Foundation and yet somehow still managed to be a ghost, everywhere and nowhere all at once.

 

‘Is that how he ended up getting close to The Snatchers?’ Satoko asked then. ‘Because he was trying to be invincible?’ Kanako and Mao both grimaced and Takahito laughed softly, almost sadly, tipping his head to one side as he considered the point.

‘Maybe it was something like that,’ he said quietly, nodding. ‘He was part of an official delegation sent to his hometown not long after it first became a Grey Zone. It had been a year since he’d been home…Brian didn’t want to risk sending him, but no one could make Yuzuru back down. He was grateful enough to Brian for letting him go at all that I don’t think he really meant to get into anything. But then he saw an old teacher of his by the road when they were stopped in traffic – she didn’t look well and his instinct was to go to her. He managed to heal her too, even though his power wasn’t so strong in the Grey Zone. But The Snatchers surrounded him pretty quickly. Brian never told anyone how exactly Yuzu got away, and Yuzu doesn’t ever talk about anything to do with his hometown anymore. But he went through something rough in getting out of there: when he got back here he was pretty badly cut up.’ Takahito shook his head, his expression almost a grimace. ‘It was rough for all of us to see him like that.’ Kanako and Mao both nodded, their expressions pinched.

‘We healed him – a whole bunch of different Healers, even Tracy pitched in. But even then he needed to stay in the hospital here for a week. He was black and blue and covered in scrapes…and he was so exhausted. To heal someone of his power and get them back to full strength takes more power than anyone here really had on their own, but doing it in stages like that made us feel so bad…to walk away from someone still hurt, even though you know you can’t do more for them? Especially someone you care about? It’s nothing any of us wanted to do,’ Kanako explained, her face suddenly a little pale.

‘At least he got away though. Somehow,’ Takahito pointed out. ‘At least we didn’t lose him, and he kept his wits about him enough to fight. However he managed it, he got out. That’s what counts, in the end.’

‘Yeah… he fought his way out with power and force of will: his greatest strengths, of course. Then he ran for his life, I guess. But that’s just hearsay, and I doubt anyone will get answers out of Yuzu,’ Kanako shrugged.

‘He learnt from it though – he is honest about that much, and he was sorry that he worried us all,’ Mao put in with a small smile. ‘But he will never stop being headstrong and determined, you know? It’s part of the make-up of him. He shouldn’t have to apologize for that part – it’s what makes him so strong, strong enough to carry so many hopes on his shoulders. He’s wilful because he has to be.’

‘He’s brave, right?’ Shoma suggested.

‘He’s _stubborn_ ,’ Kanako said pointedly, pulling a face. Shoma smiled slightly.

‘Same difference, if you ask me,’ he muttered, looking down at his hands.

 

Shoma could feel Kanako studying him with curiosity, and he was relieved when the sound of the door to the rooftop opening distracted everyone, not entirely sure he could evade her if she started questioning him.

‘Ok, people: you’d better eat all of this or I will hurt you!’ Keiji announced brightly, coming towards them with arms weighed down by fast food cartons. ‘And you will get no sympathy from me when you all are clutching your stomachs saying you will never eat again,’ he warned, setting the food down in the middle of the group and flopping onto the cushions between Shoma and Satoko. ‘I’ve been trekking from place to place for about ten minutes now. Oh, and I ran into Yuzu too. He told me to tell you there is no way this meal is a balanced diet and he won’t heal you if you get stomach ache.’ Mao and Kanako – who had descended on the delivery excitedly and were arguing playfully over a pizza box – both paused and looked over at him, pulling faces.

‘He can’t judge us without facing us in person,’ Kanako protested. ‘When I see him next I will tickle him until he squeals.’

‘Like that wasn’t in your plans anyway,’ Mao laughed.

‘I think this is why he never comes to our lunches anymore,’ Keiji pointed out with a smirk.

‘And you wonder why he thinks you’ll terrorize poor Shoma here,’ Mao said. Kanako huffed.

‘Shoma, do I terrorize you?’ she demanded.

‘A little,’ he said with a hum, slowly tipping his head to one side in thought. ‘But if you hand over the fried chicken and a slice of that pizza then I think I can probably live with it.’

 

Whether it was the food or the company, Shoma couldn’t be sure, but his mood was light when he finally made his way back across the courtyard to his afternoon Healers’ session – he still felt tired, like too much information was coming at him too quickly, but it wasn’t quite as terrifying a prospect as it had seemed earlier. He could look at it as a challenge, a goal to set himself. It helped that the Foundation revolved around goals; everything in the schedule laid out ahead of him promoted focus and gave him purpose, set aims in front of him and encouraged him to use his power to achieve them. It was something to concentrate on when the noise – and power – surrounding him grew too loud. He still felt the need to pull at his sleeves, he still felt himself spacing out into a daydream when the conversation grew too quick for him. But it was ok. He was there. That seemed to mostly be enough for those around him, even if they rolled their eyes when he asked them “What?” for the hundredth time and jostled at him laughingly when he griped at them.

 

His afternoon session was shorter and even more relaxed than the morning had been; Shoma abandoned Boyang and Jason in favour of sitting with Kanako, the two of them bickering relentlessly until Nobu came to join them to diffuse things with gentle teasing and enthusiastic comedy. It had been fun, to playfight and tease and be teased at in return – Shoma let himself not worry too much about letting his power get out of control, and his power seemed to reward him by keeping itself mostly focused on the tasks set in front of him. It was still a relief, however, to walk out into the cool evening air at the end of the day – to finally be able to turn down the invitations to dinners and get-togethers with a clear conscience (because he had done his social duty for the day) and wander out into the courtyard alone.

 

The sun was setting, the sky patterned in ice cream colours and the reflections of puffy, lilac clouds dancing in the courtyard’s many pools; Shoma pulled out his headphones and sat down on one of the low pool walls towards the back, bringing his feet up to sit cross-legged and pulling his phone out to play a game. Occasionally he stopped to watch the steady flow of people back and forth across the space, smiling as familiar faces caught his eye and returning their polite nods of greeting. It was peaceful, the crowds petering out with the petering out of the daylight, day waning softly into a smoky blue dusk that was speckled already by the faint shimmer of stars. The Foundation felt like it was floating in the sky at this time of night, like the cliff had somehow detached and drifted away from the rest of the world; even the electric feel of power that danced through the air seemed softer, lighter, like music on an evening breeze. After a while Shoma slipped off his headphones and closed his eyes, focusing on the distant sound of the waves breaking on the rocks below instead. He was exhausted. And he was at peace with it. In that moment he felt the fullness of his own power humming inside him and it didn’t frighten him as much as usual – it almost felt like a part of the world he was surrounded by, anchoring him, like a reassuring weight of belonging. And then someone else’s power interrupted the calm.

 

Shoma braced himself instinctively, tried to absorb the intense pull and tremor of the energy. If he was honest, a part of him had been trying to seek it out all day; reaching out for it, frustrated by its distance. It was almost exhilarating to finally feel it so close again. And yet it still startled him somewhat when a pale pink butterfly came into the periphery of his vision, flittering close by his face for a moment. It landed on his headphones, which were still around his neck, and he craned his head back in order to stare down at it curiously.

 

‘Hey, now,’ a bright, gentle, voice addressed the butterfly, and Shoma looked back up immediately with wide, expectant eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to see Yuzuru was standing there – one of those silly, elated smiles of his on his face again, his gaze fixed on the shimmering butterfly – but Shoma still felt slightly like he was falling all the same, like he had placed his foot down where he thought solid ground would be and found only air. Yuzuru let out a soft laugh as he watched the butterfly intently, leaning in a little to touch long, elegant fingers to the butterfly’s wings. ‘You should leave Shoma in peace when he’s thinking,’ Yuzuru told it firmly, eyes crinkling at the corners as his face broke into another smile. The butterfly seemed, somehow, to understand, fluttering up and onto Yuzuru’s outstretched hand with easy grace, and Yuzuru nodded approvingly, straightening up again and lifting the hand up to his face.

 

Shoma watched silently as Yuzuru leant towards the butterfly, holding out his palm in front of his face for a beat; he felt the pulse of Yuzuru’s power grow a little stronger, like a distant drum beat marching closer, and a shiver ran down his spine. Yuzuru’s eyes seemed to glitter with a sort of mischief, and the smile on his lips was playful yet knowing, as though he was well aware of the way Shoma’s skin was prickling, of the way his eyes were studying him. As if he enjoyed the audience. With a slight wave of his fingers, Yuzuru closed his eyes and blew out. A breeze stirred up around the whole courtyard instantly, rustling the leaves in the trees and ruffling the strands of Shoma’s fringe; the butterfly let itself be lifted up and away, and as it left Yuzuru’s fingers he opened his eyes to watch it dance into the distance on a wave of air. Shoma watched it too, kept track of its path upwards with interest as it followed the sway of the breeze. And then, after a moment, he couldn’t help but glance back at the person who had sent the butterfly on its way, who was still watching his work with pleasure, seemingly unaware of Shoma’s eyes on him. The smile that split Yuzuru’s face as his eyes traced the butterfly’s path was glorious; as enchanted as a child watching a card trick, as though this wasn’t a beauty of his own making. Shoma swallowed hard, shuddering as the unearthly breeze picked up, just for a beat, then disappeared. For a moment everything was quiet – unnaturally quiet – and then Yuzuru’s glittering eyes finally blinked, ending the spell, and he turned back, meeting Shoma’s gaze immediately. He quirked an eyebrow, inviting comment, and Shoma longed to not disappoint.

 

Shoma’s dark eyes were inscrutable and intense as he narrowed them just slightly, looking up at Yuzuru through his fringe – he was someone used to being stared at, that much was obvious, but there was still an anxiousness there; a need for approval, perhaps. Or maybe just a deep, intense longing for Shoma’s opinion, for Shoma’s words. Shoma wet his lips, feeling strangely bold.

‘Warrior powers,’ he murmured softly after a beat. Yuzuru raised his eyebrows, tilting his head just slightly, invitingly, and Shoma sat up a little straighter, raising his hand to count out the powers on his fingers the way Yuzuru had the previous night. ‘The power to project into more than one place at the same time, and the power to manipulate energy and emotions, to form them into a shield or weapon, or to use them to move objects with the mind.’ Shoma paused then, dropping his hand and tipping his head slightly, tentatively meeting Yuzuru’s gaze. ‘And then they have the power to control nature – the elements,’ he added. Yuzuru pursed his lips, smothering a smile, but his eyes were alight and Shoma raised an eyebrow, his own smile almost challenging in return. ‘Like the earth, fire, water…and the wind,’ he finished quietly. Yuzuru beamed, letting out a soft laugh, head thrown back and hair flying up in wild wisps.

‘You’re clever,’ he declared, looking back at Shoma, his smile scrunching up his whole face as he sat himself down beside him. ‘Smart,’ he added with a resolute nod, bumping his shoulder against Shoma’s. Shoma looked back at him, laughing even as a blush rose in his face. He rolled his eyes dismissively, wrinkling his nose.

‘It’s not that big of a deal, Yuzuru: I might live under a rock most of the time, but I do get wifi signal under there, you know,’ he smirked, fixing Yuzuru with a sly, teasing look, and Yuzuru laughed at him again, wild and bright.

‘And your mouth is smart too, apparently,’ he grinned, impressed rather than put out. Then he shrugged, regarding Shoma out of the very corner of his eye. ‘But I still think you’re clever,’ he said firmly, looking over at him with a smile. ‘ _Bright_ ,’ he added, his voice ridiculous and giddy and determined all at once.

 

Shoma looked back at him steadily, chewing the inside of his cheek as he considered him; the nonsense of him, the delight of him, the intensity of him. And Yuzuru looked back: unwavering challenge in his body-language, but fierce fascination in his eyes. ‘I found you by your light, you know – so did our friend the butterfly, in case you were wondering,’ Yuzuru told him, gentling a little, and Shoma’s face creased into a frown.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked and Yuzuru shrugged.

‘You’re sitting in the centre of our little glass universe,’ he stated simply, eyes glinting as he gestured to the buildings around them, his eyes not leaving Shoma’s face. ‘Like our very own little earthbound sun.’ He looked at Shoma with a fierceness that could’ve intimidated; but as quiet as Shoma was, he was hard to intimidate, and he stared back, unblinking. It seemed to encourage Yuzuru further and his eyes turned starry-dark. ‘Like magic. An incredible thing,’ he added in a whisper, apparently pleased with the determination he saw in Shoma’s face.

‘Something to believe in?’ Shoma asked him, quiet and hopeful and resolute all at once. Yuzuru smiled impossibly wide in return.

‘You remembered,’ he said, full up with wonder, and Shoma bit back a smile of his own, lifting one shoulder in an attempt at nonchalance.

‘I just listen,’ he muttered. ‘You should try it,’ he added with a smirk, and Yuzuru threw back his head in an exuberant laugh, giving Shoma a playful shove before calming down slightly, blowing out a breath and blinking to recover himself. His eyes returned to Shoma’s face, thoughtful and quiet again in a heartbeat.

‘You really do listen, don’t you,’ he murmured, considering, and Shoma looked back at him, his expression soft and serious.

‘And that matters to you,’ he replied, a statement not a question. Yuzuru swallowed, glancing down with a sad smile.

‘Yeah. It matters a lot,’ he whispered back.

 

For a moment Shoma watched him, studying the angles of his face. It was a curious face; soft yet serious, a strong jawline, pale pink, cupid’s bow lips and knowing eyes that were always expressing something. He was looking away from Shoma, his head tipped down just slightly, his dark hair falling forwards, more unruly than usual – he looked suddenly, powerfully tired, exhausted to his bones. A little more human than he usually allowed himself to be. Gently, instinctively, Shoma reached out, laying his hand carefully over Yuzuru’s own where it gripped the edge of the wall. Yuzuru lifted his head at once, looking up to meet Shoma’s eyes dazedly, and Shoma smiled – he had finally caught him off guard, and the openness of the moment looked wonderous on his face. Magical, somehow.

 

‘You feel like lightning,’ Shoma murmured, barely aware he was saying the words aloud, and Yuzuru smiled, soft and shy. ‘It keeps taking me by surprise.’

‘Then why do you keep reaching out for it, Shoma?’ Yuzuru asked. Shoma bit his lip.

‘Because yours is the only power to ever reach back,’ he admitted quietly in reply. It was a gamble; an admission of something he didn’t ever admit to anyone. Slowly Yuzuru turned his hand beneath Shoma’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing, tight and reassuring. Like he understood. He smiled when Shoma’s breath caught slightly in his throat.

‘I felt you before you’d even come through the gates, you know,’ he whispered. ‘Light, like butterfly wings. But still constant. Insistent. Boundless.’ He studied Shoma’s face for beat before glancing away. ‘Isn’t that strange?’ He was speaking softly, almost as though he were talking to himself – his brow was furrowed just slightly, and his gaze was turned down to their joined hands, serious and faraway.

 

Shoma hesitated, caught in the strangeness of being this close and trying to commit every detail of it to memory in case the opportunity never came again. The Yuzuru he had been aware of for so long was a pencil sketch of a person: a sweet, beaming kid running around a park with friends whilst the news crews watched from a distance, a level-headed, polite young man, nodding uncertainly as important people asked him questions he couldn’t really answer, and a stoic, determined figure stood stiffly in a crisp suit, being briefed by government ministers three times his age. The Yuzuru sitting beside him now was flesh and blood and thunder; he was full up and barely-contained. He was fierce and quiet and wild and vulnerable, a winter storm and a summer night at once. And Shoma could still see the lines of the pencil sketch person too; scribbles and scruffy edges that there had been no attempt to conceal. He was that person from the news after all, in part at least. But there was a depth within those lines which the camera and the headlines and the interviews could never quite capture. He was every colour at once, all movement and shifting light. Maybe nothing could capture him. Maybe that was why so many people tried.

 

Shoma was too lost in the puzzle of him to notice him reaching across with his other hand, and he jumped slightly when he felt Yuzuru’s fingers grazing the edge of his jacket sleeve where it had rucked up at his wrist. ‘Is that…is that your power mark?’ Yuzuru asked, soft and reverent, and for a moment Shoma simply blinked at him, wide-eyed and confused. And then he looked down at where the sliver of skin had been exposed; saw the gold lines just peeking out.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said reflexively, flinching back like he’d been burned, momentarily forgetting his manners and his longing for Yuzuru’s company to linger. He pulled his hand away from Yuzuru’s sharply, tugging down his sleeve and curling his hand back towards himself, placing his other hand over his wrist as he held it in his lap. He looked over at Yuzuru with a mixture of apology and nervousness, but Yuzuru was unfazed and kind, eyes gentle. Not glittering now, but still filled with light somehow, compassionate and thoughtful – like he didn’t mind. Maybe like he sympathized. He tipped his head, leaning back on his hands with a soft hum, unbothered and accepting.

 

‘You know, Brian did a study on power marks once,’ Yuzuru remarked into the quiet, matter-of-fact, as though Shoma’s behaviour wasn’t strange at all. ‘He wanted to know if we could learn something from them; maybe if people with the same or opposite ones were connected somehow, or if they spoke to people’s strengths in their personality or their abilities in some way.’ Shoma felt his shoulders untense just slightly, and he found himself letting his guard back down again. He bit his lip, looking back over at Yuzuru enquiringly.

‘And did he? Find out if they stood for something, I mean?’ he asked tentatively, and Yuzuru offered him a smile and a casual, one-shouldered shrug.

‘He found out a little. Nothing he could prove definitively. So many people have the same power marks that it made it confusing, and finding unusual ones was hard. He thought maybe there was something in the opposites, but he didn’t have the time to chase up on the idea, since it probably wouldn’t help solve the bigger problem.’ Yuzuru sighed. ‘That happens a lot here. Leads get dropped when they don’t meet the end goal. I understand, but I don’t like it.’ He shook his head, offering Shoma a small smile. ‘Brian and Tracy still talk about it sometimes. Tracy gave a lecture on the symbolism once too – it was interesting, although she mostly dealt with the common marks. Flowers, birds, stars; how those seem to relate to each power classification and reflect an aspect of a person’s talent. A lot of what she talked about was theory more than proof, but I thought it was interesting all the same; I like when Tracy talks about symbolism. She has a good way of putting things – she can make it seem simple even when it’s the whole fate of the world she’s talking about. When she talks about symbols you can’t help but be fascinated: she sees so much other people don’t think of.’

‘But what can pictures tell us? People are more complicated than that. So are powers,’ Shoma ventured. Yuzuru smiled faintly, nodding his head in thought.

‘I guess everything is always going to be more complicated than a linear theory or a picture,’ he sighed. Shoma elbowed him slightly.

‘Or a headline?’ he asked. Yuzuru smiled, eyes twinkling.

‘I like to think so.’ Shoma smiled back, giving a small nod.

‘Me too,’ he whispered. Yuzuru’s smile brightened and he nodded back.

‘Good to know,’ he replied, voice thin and quiet as he glanced away.

 

Shoma realised Yuzuru’s cheeks had turned a gentle pink and it made him smile; it was comforting to know he wasn’t the only one finding his defences were deserting him. Yuzuru shot him a sidelong glance, and they shared a smile then, Yuzuru narrowing his eyes playfully, scrunching up his face at Shoma, as though telling him off for unbalancing him, or perhaps for catching his blush. Shoma shrugged, unapologetic, and Yuzuru let out a laugh. ‘Ok, where were we?’ he asked, feigning a glare at Shoma, who suppressed a smirk.

‘Symbolism. I think you were trying to give me a bonus lecture ahead of Wednesday,’ Shoma pointed out. Yuzuru pulled a face at him and he smiled unashamedly in response.

‘So ungrateful,’ Yuzuru chided, his voice all mischief as he suppressed a smile of his own.

‘No,’ Shoma corrected. ‘Just honest.’ He shrugged. ‘If it helps? I like it when you talk. You make everything seem like maybe it could be magic,’ he admitted, a little more shyly.

 

Yuzuru smiled again, genuine and soft, and leant back on his hands – there was an easy confidence about his expression, even with the high blush still on his cheeks.

‘Ok,’ he said simply, apparently answering some unspoken question, before tipping his head back, his gaze wandering up to the sky. ‘You’re right, actually. The world _is_ more complicated than we want it to be, and as humans we can sometimes read too much into things that are nothing but chance and happenstance, probably just to stop ourselves going crazy from how much is out of our control. But the symbols – I think they wouldn’t be there if they couldn’t tell us _something_. Humans see patterns in things because that has been useful to us over time; patterns have helped us survive. Maybe that’s what the power marks will do too. I think they’re clues, even if they’re not the whole story. And anyway: Brian and Tracy think they shouldn’t be overlooked, and I trust their research.’

‘But how can a picture relate to a power?’

‘Well, take something common – like a clock face. Only Healers have ever been known to have them, and they are usually the Healers whose strength is manipulating time. The Healers whose power to heal is more dominant will often have a heart held in hands instead. Those are some of the more obvious ones. But there are Warriors with star marks who don’t seem to have a particular strength at all – it makes people think perhaps the star could mean all round power, but we don’t know for sure. Artists can have almost any mark, and the meanings seem to be different in every culture – it isn’t an exact science because of issues like that. And there are always anomalies.’

‘Like what?’ Shoma asked cautiously. Yuzuru considered him for a moment.

‘Mihoko is your mentor, right?’ Shoma chose to simply nod rather than question why Yuzuru knew this, and Yuzuru nodded back. ‘You know, her healing ability lies in her words and her heart far more than her powers? She understands people and their emotions in a way many can’t. It is her strongest gift: her ability to feel and to understand.’

‘So?’

‘So, don’t you think it’s interesting that her power mark is silver rather than gold? A tiny silver crescent moon, in fact. Silver is something more delicate, you know? Subtle. Like the intuitive nature of her abilities. And the moon as a symbol is interesting too; there are ideas of enlightenment and nurture tied up in it. It’s a compelling combination, I think.’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘It’s marks like that which make me think there really is something in all our marks – something unique, something which might mean something more. Maybe even something that could help us stop limiting ourselves to power classifications and lists of gifts we cannot stray beyond. It is a rigid, narrow way of thinking and doesn’t do us any good – we may as well all go back to the Grey Zones if we refuse to think wildly, without restriction. Dreams happen in the space where we interpret things; they thrive with freedom.’ Shoma nodded slowly. He could understand that viewpoint, and when Yuzuru talked it made it seem like something precious. Something to hope for – something to aim for, perhaps. ‘I think about these things sometimes and it frustrates me: governments won’t fund anything so entirely theoretical, even when you present them with a true mystery. And I understand. They want to fix things. We all want to fix things. There is no time for dreams when the ingredients which make them up are slowly disappearing from the world every day. But it’s a shame. It’s something disheartening: it is odd, in a way, to be forsaking magic for magic’s sake.’

 

Shoma nodded vaguely, looking down and away from Yuzuru. He could feel him watching him again, as though he was waiting for a question – waiting for the exact question which had been playing on Shoma’s mind since the conversation had taken this turn. He swallowed, glancing back over his shoulder at the gentle ripples in the pool, painted gold by the soft lights beneath the water’s surface. His own hazy reflection looked back up at him; tired eyes with heavy eyelids, an unkempt fringe. It had been a long day, but Shoma’s mind didn’t seem to want to come to rest just yet. He glanced up at Yuzuru, who was still studying him, his expression open and hopeful. Shoma knew the decision he was going to take when he saw that look in his eyes; he was going to indulge him, he was going to step further inside the puzzle Yuzuru kept drawing him into whether he wanted to or not. And yet he did. Want to. So much. And now he was sure Yuzuru wanted him to want to – which, Shoma realised, was the thing that pulled at him the most. He now had permission to be curious about this bright, confusing human in front of him. Permission to know him: the painted him, not only the pencil outline.

 

‘What’s your power mark?’ Shoma asked in a soft rush of breath, cutting the intensity of the silence between them in a heartbeat. It was absurd how wide Yuzuru smiled at him, how pleased he seemed; like Shoma offering him any words at all was a prize, and curious words the best prize of all.

‘I have wings,’ he said with impish glee. Shoma’s face creased into a confused little frown, and Yuzuru laughed brightly, leaning in to flick at the furrow in his brow and laughing harder, head thrown back, when Shoma attempted to glare at him.

‘Wings?’ Shoma repeated slowly, pointedly, and Yuzuru sobered a somewhat, nodding, his face still a little pink from laughing and his eyes still glittering.

‘My mark, it looks like wings,’ he elaborated. ‘On my shoulder, just here,’ he added, reaching around to point to a place somewhere on his opposite shoulder blade. He tapped his fingertip against the spot twice then sat back again, his smile dimming just slightly. ‘Two feathered wings in gold; Brian says he doesn’t think anyone else has ever had that mark before. It was part of why people thought I must be special, when I was younger and my powers first started getting attention,’ he murmured. ‘My mum would always laugh when people called them angel wings – she told them they couldn’t be, because I was her troublemaker and they wouldn’t say it if they had to live with my loudness and my clumsiness and my constant demands. She told me not to worry I had to be an angel for those people: she said I was her storm and she had no wish to change me.’

 

Yuzuru’s eyes closed, his expression crumpling into something lost and devastating. If Shoma had had a long day then he realised in that moment Yuzuru had had a long life – Shoma felt the ache of it as if it was his own, his whole chest constricting with the force of it, and he reached out without hesitation, instinctively laying his hand over Yuzuru’s once more. An almost-smile tugged at Yuzuru’s lips in response, though his eyes stayed closed a moment longer. ‘She hardly remembers those days now. My family – they can hardly even remember me at all. They remember, but it’s faded at the edges. The colour’s gone from all their memories.’ Yuzuru’s voice was soft and rough and Shoma rubbed his thumb across the back of his hand encouragingly. Yuzuru looked over at him with a sad half-smile, his eyes wet and glassy – if Shoma could have healed him he would have done and he wished his hand could reach out further, could reach inside of Yuzuru and lift the weight that had settled in his heart. ‘That’s what happens, without the colours; I don’t blame them – they can’t help it. But it’s strange, you know? They always say they are proud of me, but I’m not sure they really know why. I think I’d rather they didn’t remember at all. That way I wouldn’t risk disappointing them.’ Shoma squeezed his hand tightly at that.

‘But you’re still a storm, Yuzuru,’ he said, voice quiet but firm. He gave Yuzuru’s hand another small, insistent squeeze, leaning in just enough to encourage him to slowly look up and meet his gaze. ‘Whether you save the world or not, whether the colour comes back tomorrow or if it’s gone for good: you fought. You took your power and you did something with it – that is all anyone who cares about you could ever ask,’ Shoma murmured. Yuzuru smiled at him, watery and small.

‘You make it sound simple,’ he managed. Shoma shrugged.

‘Because it is,’ he insisted. Yuzuru looked at him, intense and quiet, and Shoma met his gaze with the calm certainty he truly felt.

 

They stayed that way for a beat; Yuzuru seemed to see something in the look that meant something, the light beginning to return to his eyes, and Shoma refused to waver, felt a sense of duty to convey the depth of his sincerity, somehow aware that few people ever got the opportunity to break into Yuzuru’s inner world this way.

‘I miss them,’ Yuzuru admitted after a moment. Shoma smiled, small and understanding.

‘Because you’re human – underneath all the lightning, you have a heart like anyone else,’ he pointed out. Yuzuru let out a short, wet laugh, sniffing and glancing down.

‘Am I? Do I?’ he asked, some vague hint of bitterness creeping in. Shoma squeezed his hand again, looking at him seriously.

‘It doesn’t make you less of a person just because people treat you like less of a person, Yuzuru. It makes you more, if anything: you have to feel more, because you have to look the fact you are breakable in the face every day, but you still carry on.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘You’re strong. And you’re powerful. But that’s not all you are.’ His lips twitched into a slight smile. ‘You’re everything, I think. To carry everything inside is a different sort of magic. Fragile…but amazing. Too precious to be lost for the sake of people who don’t know you at all.’ Yuzuru looked back at Shoma with wide eyes; a wet sort of wonder dancing there.

‘Not many people look at the world the way you do, Shoma. Not enough,’ he murmured, slow and achingly quiet. ‘But…I am glad that at least there is you. That is something precious too. Something you must value in yourself. And please: value it in yourself as much as I value it in you, ok?’ he added, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

‘Please don’t cry,’ Shoma whispered earnestly, reaching up and brushing the rogue tear from Yuzuru’s cheek with the edge of his sleeve. ‘I never know what to say when people cry. I just want to heal them – but not all things can be healed with powers. And words…they take too much time. The best ones do, anyway.’ Yuzuru sniffed, his eyes bright again as he offered Shoma another pale, watery smile. He looked at Shoma’s face thoughtfully, gratefully, letting out a snuffly little laugh from the back of his throat.

‘But, you know, Shoma, sometimes, when the words come from someone who thinks carefully before he says them? They don’t need to be grand to be powerful,’ he told him. ‘I’m grateful. To be able to learn that from you.’ Shoma blushed and looked down and the two fell quiet once more.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Shoma could see Yuzuru still watching him – it was not as uncomfortable as he thought it would be, to realise he was being un-puzzled and un-picked. Becoming known. It gave him permission to push back more; to want to know more in return. It was daunting, to realise he owed it to Yuzuru to keep lowering his guard. But it was thrilling too. Something compelling and irresistible. ‘May I…?’ Yuzuru asked suddenly into the quiet, his voice lilting and gentle, dropping to a hushed whisper as he let his fingertips graze Shoma’s wrist. Shoma looked up at him slowly, shy but open. He swallowed and wet his lips, taking a moment to catch his breath, to commit the look on Yuzuru’s face to memory, so that later, when he tried to make himself regret this decision, he could remind himself why he made it. Then he nodded, small and uncertain, and Yuzuru smiled at him slightly, nodding back almost imperceptibly.

 

Shoma watched dumbly as the expression on Yuzuru’s face shifted, as he broke from Shoma’s gaze to look back to his wrist, turning it over in his hands with delicate reverence. Shoma’s own eyes drifted down too as Yuzuru’s elegant fingers peeled back the soft fabric of his jacket sleeve and began to trace the path of the thin, gold lines that marked the sensitive skin at Shoma’s pulse point. It felt like pure electricity shooting through every vein in his body at once, and his breath caught in this throat. ‘Your mark is a sun,’ Yuzuru breathed, fascinated, and Shoma shivered, the gentle way Yuzuru held his wrist tickling and the awe in his voice a thrill. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sun before.’ Shoma nodded vaguely. That was why he hid it; it gave too much away, prompted too many questions. But from Yuzuru it only seemed to provoke wonder. ‘The sun is so special as a symbol, you know,’ Yuzuru said, speaking in a slow, warm voice that matched the pace of his finger’s movements across Shoma’s skin. ‘It is a constant in an inconsistent universe; steady, healing – and also fierce. Behind cloud, it remains: patient, dependable, warm. And even after a night of the heaviest darkness, the sun will always rise to bring the light back in.’ Yuzuru looked up then, meeting Shoma’s eyes. ‘It is hope, when all other signs of hope fail. And it’s stronger than most people appreciate.’

 

Shoma had become acutely aware of the sound of his own breathing, the sensation of his ribcage expanding and contracting – of the feeling of his own power inside him and the tingling along his skin. Yuzuru was looking at him with dazzling intensity, a tender openness in his expression, and all Shoma could do was look back, offer the same unguarded honesty he was being given and hope it was enough. Yuzuru smiled at him like it was more than enough. He reached his free hand up to lightly brush the strands of hair out of Shoma’s eyes with gentle, graceful fingers, then traced the very edge of Shoma’s face, his fingertips coming to rest at the point where he jawline squared out, featherlight. Shoma wondered – bewildered – if Yuzuru was committing his expression to memory too.

 

How long they sat that way, Shoma couldn’t be sure; a second, an hour, a year. A lifetime. Not even close to long enough. But they were lost – given over entirely to the moment of time they were caught in, grounded, content and heavy-limbed.

 

Both of them jumped at the sound of someone politely clearing their throat; Yuzuru’s hand slowly fell away from Shoma’s face, leaving the skin there cold, and it took Shoma a moment to blink his eyes back into focus, to fully realise there was someone standing in the courtyard with them. He looked up, still hazy, and saw it was Javier, standing just opposite them, arms folded. He was looking at Shoma in that wary way again; his usually open, friendly face was strangely stern. Someone less perceptive than Shoma might have dismissed it as a trick of the light, but Shoma had a habit of noticing things. There was a muscle in Javier’s cheek which tensed when he looked at Shoma, and a question glinted in his eyes when he turned them back to Yuzuru. Only this time Yuzuru’s silent answer – a thin smile as he leant back on his hands – didn’t seem to be enough for him. Shoma looked between the two of them curiously, tucking his hands back into his jacket sleeves and shrinking back from the wordless argument that seemed to be playing out.

 

‘Brian’s looking for you,’ Javier said after a moment, his face finally softening as though in surrender. ‘I think he’s having problems with that documentary crew. He’s said no interviews a hundred times but…you know how these people are. They don’t listen, they just expect.’ Yuzuru nodded sadly, looking down.

‘We received so much funding from the Japanese government this year; we are public property now more than ever, they deserve their piece,’ he sighed.

‘Yuzu,’ Javier chided, but Yuzuru pulled a face, dismissing him with a shake of his head.

‘Don’t, Javi. I’m tired and I’m about to get into an argument with Brian – I really can’t face arguing with you too.’ Javier looked worried, his warm brown eyes studying Yuzuru’s face carefully and his forehead creasing into a slight frown.

‘You owe them nothing, Yuzu. Shoma is here – someone new for them to talk to who is obviously not busy with anything else. Someone else from Japan, someone else young and strong and clearly endlessly interesting. They should be glad of the change of face.’

‘Shoma should be allowed to decide for himself what part he plays, Javi – don’t assume because he is quiet he has no opinion,’ Yuzuru said, pointed and firm. Javier pursed his lips.

‘Then someone else – anyone else. How many people in this place come from Japan? Why can’t they talk to any one of them instead?’ Yuzuru shrugged.

‘You know why.’

‘Power is not a good enough reason, Yuzu. It wasn’t as though you chose it.’

‘But I chose to use it. To talk about it. To allow it to be known that I had it.’ Yuzuru smiled sadly. ‘I played my part; I chose my role and invited them in enough times before.’

‘You know that doesn’t make it ok,’ Javier replied. ‘How can anyone make a decision like that when they can’t have known what it would become? You were, what, four years old? Six? Ten? It makes no difference, Yuzu – it was hardly a choice at all. You were just a kid – you still are, more or less.’ Yuzuru simply shrugged.

‘Is Brian in his office?’ he asked, and Javier sighed heavily.

‘Yuzu…’ he tried one more time, but Yuzuru shot him a warning look and he let the sentence drop, shaking his head. ‘Yeah, he will be. He’s talking to Jun about something right now, but he said he would be done in ten minutes.’ Yuzuru nodded, heaving himself to his feet.

‘Then I can walk and not run,’ he concluded, as though that solved everything. ‘Are you coming?’ he asked Javier then, but he shook his head.

‘I think I’ll pass this time, you know? I can’t defend you against Brian’s logic when I agree with it, but I hate siding against you too much to keep quiet. You two are going to have to figure this one out on your own.’ Javier paused then, his expression turning a little lighter, a mischief creeping in that sat better on his gentle face. ‘Besides, if Brian gets Tracy involved…’ Yuzuru groaned.

‘No. Don’t. She will trick me into doing what she thinks and I know it.’

‘Then go without me so Brian doesn’t feel like he needs back-up,’ Javier shrugged, then glanced thoughtfully at Shoma, his eyes so stern Shoma flinched. ‘Unless Shoma would like to help you out…?’

‘Stop, Javi,’ Yuzuru said, voice strangely quiet considering the pure thunder Shoma saw in his eyes. Javier’s expression changed immediately, and he offered Yuzuru an apologetic smile.

‘Fine.’ He sighed. ‘I get it, ok? You want me to talk Brian round for you. But I won’t, not this time, Yuzu. We all need a break from the press lately – you included. You don’t owe them anything.’ Yuzuru rolled his eyes.

‘It’s never that simple, no matter what you might think,’ he remarked, sighing. ‘I should go,’ he said then, glancing back at Shoma with a quiet, sorry smile. ‘I’m abandoning you again.’

‘More like leaving me in peace at last,’ Shoma shot back dryly, a small smile of his own on his lips. Yuzuru laughed, shaking his head.

‘I ruined your quiet night under the stars for a second time, huh?’

‘I’ll keep trying. I’m pretty determined,’ Shoma shrugged. Yuzuru smiled at him – bright and dazzling – and narrowed his eyes playfully.

‘I feel like you just challenged me to something, but I don’t know what,’ he laughed. Shoma smiled back at him shyly, glancing down.

‘Maybe I did,’ he murmured. ‘Maybe I challenged you because I want you to challenge me too.’ Yuzuru studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod.

‘I hope so,’ he replied in a low voice. Shoma looked up instantly, meeting his gaze, and Yuzuru offered him a quiet smile. ‘See you soon, Shoma,’ he said, like it was a promise.

‘See you soon, Yuzuru,’ Shoma replied, more uncertainly.

 

Javier was watching the exchange closely, his eyes intense and his expression closed again, that muscle in his cheek tense once more; Shoma wasn’t sure how much he understood, but some part of him hoped the words were still private, something that was his and Yuzuru’s only. He ignored the feeling of Javier’s eyes assessing him as best he could, choosing instead to watch Yuzuru turn on his heel with an exhausted sigh, picking up his backpack and heading in the direction of the watercolour building that housed the mentors’ offices. Shoma’s eyes wandered to the spot on Yuzuru’s back that he had pointed to when he mentioned his power mark, his mind drifting back to the feeling of Yuzuru’s gentle fingers at his wrist and his hushed voice as he spoke of the sun.

 

It wasn’t like Shoma to call out, to keep talking without invitation or to extend a conversation that had already been closed. But it also wasn’t like him to let his words go to waste when he had them – and Yuzuru seemed to value his words. ‘Yuzuru!’ Yuzuru turned back immediately, his eyebrows raised in enquiry, his eyes sparkling with something Shoma couldn’t place, and Shoma blinked for a moment, startled by the full force of the look Yuzuru was giving him. And then he remembered himself, meeting the look as calmly as he could manage and trying to steady his breath. ‘No wings can carry the weight of the world and still allow you to fly. So take only what you need, you know?’ Yuzuru’s expression had softened, but the intensity hadn’t dimmed, and it was an effort for Shoma to keep his voice even. He kept his gaze intent upon Yuzuru’s face though, fierce and kind at the same time. ‘You should take only magic. And whispered conversations. And your most important memories. And the knowledge that – even when everything else has faded – your family have still remembered you, have cared enough to still hold on.’ Yuzuru’s breath stuttered then; Shoma could see the shudder in his body even across the courtyard. ‘Hope comes in many forms, Yuzuru. Don’t give so much to others that you forget to keep some of your own,’ Shoma told him, earnest and gentle, and the smile on Yuzuru’s face bloomed – quiet but full – as he studied Shoma’s features for just a moment, tilting his head.

‘And when I let down all of Japan, I have your permission to blame you? For leading me astray?’ he joked, his voice thin and a little rough. Shoma smirked slightly, eyes glimmering.

‘You could let down all of the world, for all I care. I would still believe in you. And I wouldn’t be the only one.’ Yuzuru’s eyes shone and Shoma blushed, glancing down just for a moment, pulling a face. ‘You’re as stubborn as I am; you will always keep trying to fly,’ he added, a little quieter, looking back up at Yuzuru from under his fringe. ‘As long as you have a good heart and good intentions, those who know you will never feel disappointed in anything you do. Remember that when you’re deciding whether or not you owe our media another interview.’ Yuzuru’s smile was so small it could’ve been missed – but Shoma felt it as much as he saw it, and he smiled back, giving a slight nod that Yuzuru returned.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Or…I guess really it’s: thank you, _again_ , right?’ he added, softly but with meaning, and Shoma’s lips twitched up at one corner. ‘Goodnight, Shoma. I hope you can finally enjoy your stars in peace now.’

 

Yuzuru turned away then, giving a parting wave to Javier, who was still looking between the two of them in slight confusion. When Yuzuru reached the edge of the courtyard he twisted back, and the grin he fixed on Shoma was unexpectedly giddy and glittering – ridiculously bright in the hazy, gold-edged dark of the courtyard, shifting the mood between them a little. ‘You’re like the sun, Shoma!’ he called out, his voice almost musical across the courtyard. A breeze picked up around them, rustling the leaves of the trees as Yuzuru let out a bubble of laughter. Shoma blinked and Yuzuru beamed at him fondly. ‘ _Inside you! A whole sun!_ ’

 

Shoma felt himself blushing again as Yuzuru flashed him one final, secret smile before turning with a flourish and disappearing into the shadows beyond the courtyard – strangely he was that happy, ridiculous child again in a moment, half-dancing out of sight as though the past few minutes had never happened. As though the past few years had never happened. For a fraction of a second, Shoma was in a trance; his eyelids were heavy from exhaustion and his breath felt scratchy in his throat, but the smile lingered on his lips despite it as he watched the space that Yuzuru had occupied, his mind buzzing and his skin still tingling with static.

 

He had almost forgotten there was another person in the courtyard, watching their every interaction with solemn, sceptical eyes. But then he blinked, refocused, caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye; he remembered he wasn’t alone immediately and with sharp clarity then. He glanced Javier’s way, and Javier looked back at him like he wanted to say something – like he wanted to issue some warning or ask some serious question, like Shoma was an unknown quantity that could not be left unchecked in Yuzuru’s company for a second night in a row. Shoma tried to swallow down his uneasiness, shifting slightly under Javier’s gaze.

 

‘Have I done something wrong?’ Shoma ventured nervously, sucking at his bottom lip. He didn’t quite meet Javier’s eyes, just kept him in the corner of his vision – wary and careful. Javier blinked, lips parting slightly as he stared at Shoma wide-eyed, almost as though he’d been stung; it was as if he was surprised that Shoma had dared broach the topic, or perhaps he was simply alarmed he had been quite so easily read by a near-total stranger.

‘Of course not, why would you think that?’ he asked, frowning, and Shoma shrugged, trying to seem more casual than he felt.

‘With everyone else you’re so friendly, you’re always laughing and smiling. You’re popular, with people from all around this place. But whenever you see me you go quiet. You look at me like you don’t trust me, and I don’t know why.’ Javier still looked somewhat stricken, but Shoma saw some realisation dawning in his eyes. He glanced down, tugging at a loose thread in his jacket sleeve, tilting his head back and forth as he considered it. ‘Or at least…that’s how you look at me when you see me talking with Yuzuru, anyway,’ he added more quietly.

 

Javier opened his mouth and then closed it again, as though he wanted to defend himself against the accusation only to realise that he couldn’t. His shoulders slumped slightly and he let out a weary sigh – not quite defeated but lacking the conviction he’d seemed to feel just a few moments before.

‘It’s not that…Shoma, I didn’t mean to seem like…’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a beat before shaking his head slightly and taking a step closer to Shoma, his expression softer but not entirely sorry. Shoma could still see reservation there, a strangely reluctant sort of worry in his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to seem unfriendly,’ he offered gently, his expression earnest. But Shoma could still see something in his eyes – something he was trying and failing to push back. Javier seemed to realise Shoma wouldn’t be so easily fooled, and he sighed again, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. ‘I didn’t want to make you feel bad, Shoma,’ he said, looking back at Shoma again. It wasn’t the openness he showed others, but it was an offer, of sorts. A compromise. His face was serious still – concerned, but less guarded. Shoma took a deep breath, trying to dispel his nerves slightly. ‘Look, it isn’t about you so much as it is about Yuzu, ok?’ Javier paused, judging whether to go on and evidently deciding he’d come too far not to. ‘He was young when he came here, you know? He was the youngest one, for a while. He looked up to me, had heard about my powers and wanted to learn from me; he’d follow me around and bug me to no end and I enjoyed it. It made me protective of him. So…we became close. And he’s like a brother to me now because of it.’ He looked at Shoma hopefully, and Shoma gave him a small nod to show he was following. ‘He puts so much pressure on himself. He lets the world pile more on top. But he never lets it stop him being open – when new people come here, he welcomes them, he doesn’t pretend to think he is better than anyone for a moment. But more and more, as time has gone on…’

‘People have arrived with a certain idea about him?’ Shoma ventured. Javier smiled slightly, nodding.

‘Some.’ He looked Shoma up and down, thoughtful and considering. ‘Some people come here to try to get something out of him: attention or status, I don’t know what. Others have come looking for stories to spread to the press when they go back home – writers and photographers have tricked the Foundation before now, into thinking they wanted a part of some project or other. Then they come and they try to get close to Yuzu.’ Javier rubbed his face tiredly, looking down. ‘It hasn’t happened for a while now. But I saw how much it hurt him when it did.’ He shrugged. ‘And then there is the other side of it: the people who are genuinely close to him who just get hounded, chased away. The craziness around him has lost him friendships, you know? Because sometimes being close to him is too much: there is a lot of noise from the outside always coming in. We’re all either using him for status or not giving him the respect he deserves – if you’re close to Yuzu, and the world finds out about it? There will always be someone with something to say. It has cost him the chance to know some people better, because they couldn’t take it, or because he chose to give them space so they didn’t have to deal with it. Some close friends, even, he’s argued with: because he won’t listen or because other people listened who weren’t supposed to. Me and him, we’ve argued many times over these things. I always forgive him, though. Because I know it’s not his fault, the burden that is placed on him, or even the burdens he places on himself. It’s who he is, and who the world has made him out to be. And I also know…the person he truly is underneath? Is worth the problems, the effort. The craziness. He doesn’t deserve to have to keep losing things just because he was born with these powers and enough willpower to want to use them well. He shouldn’t be punished because the world decided to put these expectations on him and him alone.’ Javier stopped, shaking his head sadly; Shoma saw the frustration and the exhaustion there. But he also saw the deep affection – the protectiveness and the respect.

 

Shoma couldn’t blame Javier for not trusting the world with Yuzuru: as far as Shoma could see, the world had done very little to show it deserved that trust, tossing Yuzuru constantly from headline to headline, people using and abusing his name whether they loved him or loathed him. Javier looked at Shoma again then, meeting his eyes solemnly. ‘Me? I know him, maybe the best of all. I know him enough to know who he is behind whatever is being said this week and to know it is not something that is really in his control. But the problem is that _everyone_ thinks they know Yuzu, whether they do or not. Or they think they are entitled to know him, maybe. That’s a lot to put on someone – especially on top of everything else he has to deal with. He bears it well, but he has been practicing at pretending to be ok since he was a kid – it gets to him more than he shows.’ His expression was serious and sad, and Shoma stared him down, unwavering, feeling that it was important he conveyed how deeply he understood, how much he sympathised with Javier’s worries. ‘People from Japan have been some of the worst,’ Javier said softly then, a weight behind his words that made Shoma wince. _Of course_. ‘There is no winning for him with some corners of your country now. Because he is a legend over there. A piece of folklore; his name is known enough to make him seem like public property, for sure. It’s impossible to please everyone that way. Like this interview, you know? If he gives it he is an attention seeker, if he doesn’t, or if he says the wrong thing, it doesn’t change, he’s just cold and unfriendly instead, they’ll say he doesn’t give enough back to his country despite all his country has given to him. He’s too honest, or not honest enough. He’s arrogant. He’s powerful but not as skilful as others. He’s wild and reckless – maybe he is, but why is that so bad when you look at what he has achieved with it? He’s too much of this or that. Or then maybe he’s not enough. He is too loud, he is too quiet. He is everything and nothing all at once to these people. And even some of the people who will praise his words will pick over them and complain that there aren’t more. Everyone always wants more. The people who mean well are drowned out by the people who think what they say has no consequence. He doesn’t hear enough of the good things because everything else is so loud all the time.’ Javier rolled his eyes then looked back at Shoma with a hint of a wry smile, his eyes still assessing him carefully. ‘When I saw you with Yuzu two nights in a row, sitting close, inviting his confidence…I was worried. I thought you might be one of those who feels they have grown up with him, who think they know him because they have read enough newspapers and are entitled to his time because of it. One of those who begs for his words, then tells him that those words aren't right and asks for more.’

 

Shoma’s brows drew together at that and he tipped his head, his whole body swaying slightly to one side with the action.

‘How could I know someone I have never met?’

‘Good question,’ Javier shot back with a dry laugh. Shoma frowned.

‘I don’t pretend to know Yuzuru because I have seen him on TV,’ he said simply, firmly. ‘And you don’t know me just because you know I come from Japan,’ he added, eyes sharp and calm. Javier winced, his smile turning lopsided and genuinely apologetic for the first time.

‘Apparently not,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, Shoma, truly,’ he added then, putting his palms together as though to plead his case. ‘I should’ve trusted Yuzu when he told me as much himself. But I’m cautious. That doesn’t give me the right to make you feel bad about yourself, though. And I apologize, if I troubled you. You belong here – and I know that’s true regardless of Yuzu. It’s not my place to make you feel like you don’t belong just because I’m worried about my friend. So, I’m sorry. For all of it – for not being tactful and for not being kind. Believe me. Me and Brian and Tracy…we are his family, have had to become his family because his own are so far away, in more ways than one. We worry about him. All the time. And he isn’t always honest with us when he’s in trouble – so we worry even when he tells us something is fine. It can make you crazy, being that worried all the time. I saw you with him. Two nights in a row. Talking, close…you were alone here, the two of you. And I made the wrong assumptions about what it was you were expecting: better to take your time with him without anyone around to interrupt or question your interest, perhaps. But when I did that I pretended to know you – I made the mistake with you that I was trying to protect Yuzuru from seeing you make with him. It was wrong of me, and I hope you can forgive it, maybe?’

‘You thought I sought him out?’ Shoma asked, surprised. ‘Yuzuru is the one who found me, both times.’

‘I know, Shoma. Or least, that’s what Yuzu told me last night and I had no reason to think tonight was different.’ Javier shrugged then, a thoughtful smile on his lips. ‘Maybe that made me worry even more. Yuzuru is always interested – in things, in people. That’s not unusual. But to use what little time he has alone to seek someone out? That’s new. He doesn’t need to seek out company most of the time – people come to him constantly, there is always someone. But with you? It’s as if you pull him in. You move him, when he is used to moving others. That’s a powerful thing.’ Javier paused, taking in the slight look of surprise on Shoma’s face and offering him a small smile. ‘I see the look in his eyes when he is talking to you, Shoma. It is Yuzu with all his defences down.’ Javier shrugged. ‘He rarely allows himself happiness without reservation, because many times before he has had it taken away from him. But every time he sees you, it lights him up from within. And he makes no attempt to hold it back. That is a leap of faith – a very human sort of magic, don’t you think?’

 

Shoma blinked, taking a moment to process the information Javier was offering. He wasn’t sure what had shifted, what it was that had convinced Javier he wasn’t a threat – but he realised he was being warned, kindly, of the responsibility that came with accepting the challenge Yuzuru seemed to be offering him. But more than that, he was also being encouraged to accept that challenge: to take the unspoken offer. He swallowed, glancing down and taking his time, considering his words carefully before he spoke. And Javier waited patiently, still watching him with a certain intensity, still assessing Shoma quietly. Maybe he was wondering what Yuzuru could possibly find so interesting about a scruffily dressed kid with his hair in his eyes and very little to say for himself – Shoma almost wondered the same thing. He could feel the warmth of Javier’s energy now he was standing a little closer; it was something open and golden and lapping, dancing with mischief at the edges. Shoma could understand why someone of Yuzuru’s wild, almost erratic energy would be drawn to someone like him. He was easy, his edges smoothed out. And Yuzuru obviously trusted him – for Shoma that was enough of a reason to decide he trusted him too, enough to forgive him the small slight of his previous wariness.

 

‘Most people are all contradictions, when you get to know them. That’s how humans are, even though they don’t want to be,’ Shoma said slowly, looking up to meet Javier’s eyes. ‘Someone strong can be breakable. Someone terrified can be fearless. Someone who is always happy can carry enough sadness for the world inside them and never really shake it away.’ Shoma bit at the inside of his cheek, narrowing his eyes slightly in thought. ‘Putting your faith in someone is always a gamble, because everyone is a mess in their own way. No one can make promises about never making a mistake. Sometimes the people who can be trusted the most are the ones who accept that they can make you no promises at all. Who simply do, rather than just say.’

‘And are you someone who makes no promises, Shoma?’ Shoma smiled slightly at that, glancing down for a moment then looking back up at Javier from the corner of his eye.

‘I’m just…someone who listens, even to the things people don’t say out loud,’ he said simply, offering Javier a one-shouldered shrug. ‘My leap of faith is to learn to be listened to in return, maybe. Words are a very human magic too. The only promise I can make is to try to use them well.’ Javier smiled, impressed

‘I can see why Yuzu likes you,’ he said gently. Shoma shrugged, smothering a smile and trying to pretend he didn’t feel strangely proud.

‘Good,’ he said, giving a decisive little nod. Then his eyes turned mischievous. ‘Because that’s the best I’ve got to offer and I didn’t have anything prepared for a Plan B,’ he added, and Javier let out a bright, genuine laugh, his dark eyes dancing with flecks of gold.

‘You’re a devil, hey?’ he joked. Shoma pursed his lips, forcing back a smirk.

‘I’ve been called worse,’ he said, matter-of-fact.

‘Let me guess: you have a sibling, right?’ Javier grinned, and Shoma sighed his most put-upon sigh.

‘He’s younger than me. He’s taller than me. And he has more energy than me,’ he deadpanned, a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘My life is such a struggle, you have no idea.’

 

Sleep should have come to Shoma easily that night; it had been a long day, after all, and by the time he’d got back to his room it had been late. The worries and questions of the previous night had somewhat subsided; it was surprising how easily life at the Foundation came to him, considering how long he usually took to adjust to the unfamiliar, but he was grateful for it. In some ways he supposed the people here could understand him more than his friends and family at home could: they had powers too, and the same sense of duty when it came to using them. And at the Foundation there was less need to hold that power back. Shoma felt more like himself, more like being himself wasn’t so complicated after all – more at home in his own skin in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe not since he was five and he had been put in front of a lady with a microphone that was at least as big as he was. Or when he was six and realised his powers were more complicated than what he’d been told and that he had more to hide than what he’d first imagined. Here, now, his inner calm was becoming, steadily, an outer calm – something he was able to feel without deliberately drawing it to the surface for a change.

 

But Shoma’s mind had a habit of coming alive at the worst times and, as exhausted as he felt, when his head finally hit the pillow, he quickly realised that sleep was going to be elusive. Because whilst everyone else’s power had receded into the night as soon as he’d left the communal spaces, there was still static dancing across Shoma’s skin; the aftershock of a million tiny lightning bolts still vibrating through his whole body. And Shoma couldn’t make himself want to pretend he couldn’t feel it. When he closed his eyes he realised he could still sense the turn of Yuzuru’s inner universe, could hear it hum – distant, powerful, deep. Bells and drums and thunder. The pull of it was charming, enchanting. It could almost have been soothing, if it hadn’t have set Shoma’s mind spinning back off into his thoughts. Shoma wondered if Yuzuru knew he was listening in, reaching out, or if he simply didn’t even realise the force of his own gravity. And then he pictured that ridiculous look of delight he wore on his face when Shoma called out to him; like it was a surprise, like he wasn’t always pulling, pulling, pulling, like he wasn’t silly and magnetic and undeniable. Shoma rolled over and buried his face in the pillow with a groan.

 

It was useless. He and Yuzuru were two stubborn, relentless things, pushing and pulling and powerful. They had to be terrible for each other: just force meeting force, surely. It should’ve been destructive, but somehow Shoma couldn't bring himself to see it that way. It seemed strangely inevitable that they would get drawn into each other’s orbit when brought into such close quarters, it seemed like something it was pointless to even try and deny – something physics could explain, maybe. Talking to Yuzuru earlier had charged him up, drawn some of Shoma’s fire out of him; unlocked some of his own electricity which now couldn’t be shut off or dispelled by simple force of will. Shoma threw off the covers and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. He needed to get out.

 

Out beyond the sanctuary of the central skyscraper, the Foundation was cool, quiet and bright; Shoma shivered, but it was pleasant, to feel the freshness of the sea air on his skin. He could taste the salt in it, making it thick and heavy. It was a little before midnight, and almost no one was around, though lights still winked in windows, flickering with movement that indicated Shoma wasn’t the only one still awake. Everything was black and gold and deep, watercolour blues. Some of the shops and restaurants were still open: little hole-in-the-wall places which smelled deliciously of spices and fried food, late-night pharmacies and convenience stores with windows piled high with curios and impulse-purchase knick-knacks. Some other shops were just closing, owners pulling down the metal shutters for the night, jangling their keys as they locked up. The series of connecting walkways between the buildings to the back of the courtyard were almost deserted but for a man in overalls which he had rolled down to his waist to reveal a bright, striped shirt that was now grease-stained and tatty. He dabbed at his forehead with an oversized rag as he worked on fixing some complex series of circuits in a panel in a wall, and he smiled at Shoma as he passed by before turning back to his work, whistling an absent-minded tune. Shoma carefully stepped around his toolbox and headed off towards the next walkway.

 

The faint breeze ruffled at Shoma’s hair and it quieted his mind a little, calmed his prickling skin; the sky overhead was a rich, royal blue – a wistful sort of dark – and there were dust-coloured clouds collecting at its edges, framing the stars over the Foundation perfectly. The birds were calling out, faint and distant, and the sea beyond splashed rhythmically at the shore; Shoma leant over the railing of the walkway briefly, craning to look up at the swooping birds as they danced relentlessly between the skyscrapers and the sea. It was a dreamy sort of peace, and Shoma let it wash over him, eventually settling himself in the shadows halfway down one of the spiralling staircases at the edge of the courtyard. He didn’t want to interrupt this strange late-night world with his presence, preferred to appreciate the quiet and the calm rather than disturbing it. He ended up playing a game on his phone in an attempt to keep his mind occupied and turn it far away from thoughts of butterflies and lightning – he let himself concentrate on nothing but the periodic tapping of his fingers against the screen, the colours of the game blurring as he stared down at it intently. It was soothing, hypnotic, and he felt his eyelids slowly start to grow heavier.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when he caught it: a flash of movement on the periphery of his vision, a figure emerging from the shadows. He looked up immediately – a mixture of curiosity and instinct compelling him to stop what he was doing and instead let his eyes follow the figure’s path across the courtyard. Shoma didn’t need the person to step into the light to realise who they were; Yuzuru was unmistakable to him now, too bright and too powerful to be ignored or confused. His outline was distinctive; waiflike and slight, too-long legs and a purposeful stride. Shoma shrank back into the shadows still further, his brow furrowing slightly as he watched him cross the courtyard swiftly and listened to the faint sound of him half-singing along to whatever he was listening to on his headphones. He was quick but not rushed – going somewhere he wanted to be, rather than somewhere he was expected to be. It was a subtle difference, but Shoma saw it; Shoma was starting to learn the little shifts in Yuzuru’s manner between when he was on duty and when he wasn’t, when he was on show and when he let his guards down. It was startling to realise how much information he had taken in in just a couple of days. It was more startling still to realise how much of the guards-down Yuzuru he had seen in that time.

 

For a moment Shoma thought he had been spotted: Yuzuru paused, taking out one headphone in order to glance back over his shoulder, as though to make sure he was alone. Shoma held his breath as Yuzuru stood, turning slowly and surveying the courtyard with slightly narrowed eyes. It was a relief when he nodded slightly to himself and turned back on his way. Shoma still didn’t dare move, but he carefully let out a breath. He noticed that Yuzuru didn’t return the headphone to his ear. Noticed how, when he began to move once more, his pace slowed somewhat. He was cautious, tentative. Shoma carefully leant closer to the railings to get a better view. Yuzuru moved between the pools and trees of the courtyard like he was following a well-worn path, ducking beneath branches and dipping fingers into the water with a quiet sort of grace that seemed to come to him effortlessly, as though it was something practiced on more than one midnight that had gone before. When he finally reached the shadows at the far edge of the courtyard he paused again, casting another, quicker, glance back before walking to the edge of the building and slipping out of sight.

 

Shoma got to his feet cautiously, creeping a little further down the staircase and straining to see where Yuzuru had disappeared to. At the very edge of the building, Shoma just managed to make out a metal gate, half-obscured by a tangle of greenery, a delicate, shadowy outline disappearing beyond it and closing it behind them with a soft clank. Just as quickly as Yuzuru had appeared, he was gone, swallowed by the shadows that lay at the end of the stone steps which Shoma could just see snaking downwards beyond the gate.

 

Shoma frowned, studying the empty space left behind with curiosity. He wanted to follow. He wanted to chase. But Shoma had never been someone to take what wasn’t offered to him, and he valued Yuzuru’s humanity too much to neglect it; Yuzuru was allowed some part of himself which was entirely his own, if that’s what he wanted it to be. So instead Shoma stood at the foot of the staircase, the breeze ruffling his hair as he silently watched the spot in front of the gate where Yuzuru had just been. Then, after a few more minutes passed, he quietly turned and headed back up to his room to finally get some much-needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure when I return with the next chapter I shall be coming with armfuls of Yuzuru and Shoma driving each other to distraction, so please stick with me for that? Thank you all for reading this, I am immensely grateful and I hope you continue to enjoy this little world I’ve gotten myself lost in :)


	3. But You And Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to split this chapter up, but the only breaking off points would’ve made for an empty chapter so *technically* you're getting two for the price of one here!! Thank you to all of you commenting and leaving kudos – it was so long since I’d written anything new when I started writing this and I was genuinely thinking maybe I’d just lost the ability so the fact you are reading this and being lovely to me about it is honestly just such a bonus and I can’t thank you enough because you’re all wonderful and keeping me writing and making me enjoy writing again? So, yeah, there’s that. Please accept this gigantic pile of fluff, banter, heart-to-hearts and Yuzuru and Shoma not leaving each other be for more than ten seconds at a time in return?

 

Shoma was staring. It felt like a betrayal, on some level. Or it would have done, if a part of him hadn’t been absolutely sure Yuzuru knew he was looking. Maybe not staring would have been the real betrayal, when there Yuzuru was, lit up like a human firework. Laughing at everything and unable to sit still, incandescent and electric; it was a silent dare and Shoma didn’t understand why he was the only one who seemed to realise it. His vision was blurring a little at the edges and he blinked, just once, a small frown of concentration coming over his face. When his eyes opened again they met with Yuzuru’s immediately – his lips curled almost imperceptibly at one corner, one eyebrow quirked and his head tilted, knowing. Shoma quickly looked away, and when he looked back Yuzuru had shifted; the moment was over as he leant back to talk to someone behind him, half-obscured by the bodies of those gathered around him and too far away for Shoma to be sure he’d even been looking at him to begin with.

 

They hadn’t spoken since Monday night; not with words, anyway. That wasn’t to say there wasn’t a conversation happening – a conversation made of waves and swells, like invisible ocean currents, pulling and swirling and deep. It was something constant, always playing on the edges of Shoma’s awareness, occasionally rising out of the background noise to roar more insistently in his ears. Yuzuru was a force of nature, a million things all at once, but Shoma was slowly beginning to realise that he could match him push for pull. He suspected Yuzuru had known it all along.

 

‘You know, if the wind changes, your face is probably going to end up stuck like that.’ Shoma blinked at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, looking up into the face of the person who’d spoken with dazed confusion. It was a friendly face – twinkling, mischievous eyes and a cheekily quirked mouth – and the man had the energy to match, bubbling over with ready enthusiasm, somehow gentle and wild at the same time. The person standing beside him was gentler still – a pretty face with delicate features and a smile that radiated warmth, an easy kindness to her whole being that invited trust. He recognised their faces – the Shibutani siblings were popular at the Foundation, friends with everyone and always busy with something – but he had no idea how long they’d been standing there, or if they had caught the direction of his stare.

‘Give it up, guys; he’s been staring into the void for, like, at least ten minutes now,’ another voice cut in sharply. Shoma turned his head, eyebrows raised in surprise as he realised it was Ashley, sitting on the floor near his feet with Adam; she was looking up at him with a bright smile, wide eyes sparkling and hair blowing wildly in the morning breeze. Shoma hadn’t noticed her and Adam arriving and he was somewhat alarmed to find their attention so focused on him when he had been entirely oblivious to their presence – it was startling to realise just how long he must have been drifting around in his own thoughts.

 

He’d arrived somewhat early for their meeting that morning, mostly thanks to Satoko coming to his room to drag him out for breakfast with her and Keiji despite his groggy protests, and in the time he had been spacing out the courtyard had become somewhat crowded, groups bleeding into each other and new arrivals having to step over those already sitting on the floor at the courtyard’s edges. Shoma rubbed self-consciously at his eyes and flicked his hair out of his face – hoping no one had bothered following the line of his vision across to where Yuzuru was holding court with his many friends – and Ashley laughed at him softly. ‘Welcome back, kid,’ she joked as she saw some of the alertness finally returning to his face, and Shoma’s eyebrows drew together in slight wince.

‘All this judgement from the same person who has been staring into her phone for the past ten minutes looking at shoes she can’t afford,’ Adam remarked archly, something devilish in his eyes, and Ashley gasped, hitting his shoulder.

‘Shut up – it was two minutes, tops. And they’re gorgeous shoes, I was understandably captivated.’

‘They’re just shoes, Ash: you need to get over it.’

‘This is coming from Adam “I will die if I don’t have this sweater” Rippon?! Seriously.’

‘It was a cold day when I said that: I could’ve gotten frostbite. Now shut up and concentrate already; if we go another week without showing Raf any progress on this project? Then we will both be dead, because he will literally murder us and feed our lifeless bodies to the lions – and no amount of fancy shoes would save you from his wrath, for real.’

‘Feed us to _what_ lions, Adam?!’ Ashley laughed.

‘The ones he’s going to buy when we don’t finish this project, Ashley. This is why Nathan is his new favourite, you know: he’s already got more done in two days than we have in the past two years.’

‘Well then maybe Nathan is the real enemy here and _we_ should feed _him_ to the lions,’ Ashley suggested with a bright smile. Adam glowered at her darkly.

‘There are currently no lions, Ash – they are hypothetical, future lions which belong to Raf and not us.’ He looked up at the others, his expression a show of exasperation. ‘Do you see what I have to put up with?’ he asked with a deep, put-upon sigh.

‘Adam, we all put up with a lot when you two are around,’ Maia beamed without a hint of malice. Adam narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

‘Please, I’m a delight and you know it,’ he shot back.

‘You’re certainly something,’ Ashley remarked, yelping as Adam elbowed her sharply in response.

 

Shoma watched the bickering with wide, curious eyes, confused but mildly entertained, before glancing back at the group he had actually arrived with, as though they might have some answers for what he’d missed whilst he’d been daydreaming. Misha was sitting beside him, smiling with gentle amusement, and when Shoma looked up at him he threw a friendly arm around his shoulders.

‘So, Shoma, you’ve finally returned to us from outer space!’ he said brightly. ‘Where did you disappear off to in that head of yours, my friend? Was our conversation really so boring?’ he asked, teasing but gentle, and Shoma laughed at him, coming back to himself slightly. He shook his head, waving one hand vaguely in protest as Misha elbowed at him jokingly.

‘Shoma is a terrible daydreamer – I don’t think there’s any hope for him,’ Satoko said with a soft smile.

‘Maybe he’s plotting world domination and we should all be worried,’ Wakaba laughed.

‘I wouldn’t put it past him. He has a death-grip when you get on his bad side,’ Keiji smirked. Shoma frowned at all of them.

‘You know I’m sitting right here, right?’

‘But are you, Shoma? Are you really?’ Satoko teased. Shoma pulled at face at her and she stuck out her tongue in response.

‘You’re all mean and I’m going back inside my own head again,’ Shoma huffed, eyes glinting playfully.

‘He’s definitely plotting world domination,’ Wakaba nodded, jokingly solemn, and Shoma scrunched his face up at her in a show distaste, making her giggle. He looked up at Maia and Alex then, somewhat sheepish.

‘I’m not as awful as they’re making me seem, I swear,’ he winced. Maia laughed.

‘That’s ok – we clearly have low standards for our friends anyway,’ she beamed, glancing pointedly at Adam and Ashley, who let out indignant protests, attempting to kick out at Maia’s legs. Maia was quick and graceful as she danced out of their way, her smile sunny and innocent. ‘Don’t make me set my brother on you,’ she warned them. ‘What he lacks in brains he makes up for in brute force,’ she informed the others in a stage-whisper, her smile deceptively sweet.

‘Exactly!’ Alex beamed, then he narrowed his eyes, pretending to take a moment to puzzle out her statement. ‘Hey, wait – hang on a minute…’ He glared down at Maia jokingly and she shrugged blithely in response.

‘Sorry?’ she suggested.

‘You’re not sorry at all – this has been going on since you learned to talk,’ Alex shot back, elbowing her fondly. ‘I should never have let our parents bring her home from the hospital, honestly.’

‘Shut up, you thought I was adorable.’ Maia grinned, eyes sparkling as she tossed her braid back over her shoulder. ‘And you were right: I really was _the most_ adorable.’

‘Yeah, you were, it’s true…I wonder what went wrong?!’ Alex teased and Maia scowled playfully at him.

‘You’re not funny.’

‘I’m a comic genius, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

 

Shoma could see why the Shibutani siblings were so well-liked at the Foundation; there was something undeniable about them and their warmth was boundless and genuine. The two of them had become something of a PR dream for the Foundation in recent years: powerful, wholesome Warrior siblings with quick wit and natural charisma, always open to give talks and interviews and – most importantly of all – win over Foundation donors and corporate sponsors with their polished double act and competent skills in presentation and power demonstration. As a result they never seemed to be in one place for long, always on the move. They were unassuming with it; readily friendly and gifted with the ability to make sure no one ever felt like they were too busy to give them their time. They moved in the same circles as Yuzuru, but had a way of making friends with everyone, and Shoma wasn’t sure he’d seen them talking to the same people for more than five minutes since he’d arrived.

 

‘We haven’t properly met yet, right?’ Maia asked, focusing the full force of her smile on Shoma. She was pretty and gentle, her nature too open and kind for Shoma to feel all that shy in her presence.

‘Um…I guess not,’ he shrugged. Maia beamed, waving at him sweetly.

‘Well in that case? Hi!’ she laughed. ‘I’m Maia, by the way. And the great comedian here is my brother Alex,’ she added, sharing one of those knowing, sibling looks with her brother that Shoma recognised from years of creating his own silent language with Itsuki.

‘Hey, man – nice to meet you,’ Alex smiled, offering out his hands for a double high-five instead of a handshake. Shoma laughed slightly, obliging him, if a little messily.

‘Hi. I’m Shoma,’ he offered. Alex grinned at him, nodding as though in consideration.

‘Cool. I’ve actually heard about you – though I won’t give away my source, except to say he’s about this tall, Japanese and doesn’t ever stop laughing,’ he said, tipping his head slightly back over to where Yuzuru was sitting. Shoma raised his eyebrows in surprise but Alex didn’t notice, narrowing his eyes playfully at Shoma instead. ‘I think we’re going to have to work on that high-five, though, Shoma. I reckon maybe some sort of secret handshake might be better.’

‘A secret handshake?’ Shoma repeated blankly.

‘Definitely. Every dark overlord should have one before he takes over the world,’ Alex grinned, rubbing his chin as though in serious contemplation. ‘I think you might need one more than most: you’re kind of harmless looking, honestly, but apparently you’re dangerous, so you never know, I guess,’ he added teasingly and Shoma laughed despite himself, tipping his head back and rolling his eyes skywards.

‘Waka – you started this,’ he groaned. ‘Now I’m going to have to figure out how to take over the world just so I can get revenge on you.’

‘No, Shoma! Have mercy on me!’ Wakaba sing-songed through a laugh, and Shoma folded his arms in an approximation of a sulk.

‘Too late,’ he told her firmly, eyes glittering, and Wakaba gasped dramatically.

‘Satton, protect me – he likes you!’ she squeaked.

‘No way – Alex is right, Shoma is dangerous,’ Satoko giggled, shaking her head emphatically.

‘Please don’t drag me into this either: I feel like Shoma definitely knows how to get away with murder,’ Keiji added, looking over at Shoma with a grin, and Shoma smirked back at him.

‘Shoma, you wouldn’t kill me; I gave you half of my cookies in afternoon sessions yesterday, remember!’ Wakaba insisted, putting her hands together pleadingly and tucking them under her chin as she pouted, wide-eyed and puppyish.

‘You’re all ridiculous,’ Shoma told them bluntly, looking around at the amused faces staring back at him with dark, glinting eyes and a thinly-veiled smile.

‘You’ll learn to love us,’ Misha informed him.

‘And if not then we’ll just have to bribe you with more cookies,’ Wakaba suggested.

‘I’m not investing cookies in this. My agreeing to game with him yesterday should be more than enough payment,’ Keiji said, pulling a face.

‘He beat you, huh?’ Satoko laughed.

‘Every time! I didn’t stand a chance! He’s so fast, and his focus is terrifying,’ Keiji replied. Shoma smothered a grin.

‘Sore loser,’ he muttered. Keiji pretended to glower over at him.

‘Next time we play I’m bringing Yuzu for back-up. Then you’ll know a sore loser.’

‘He pouts,’ Misha nodded sagely, eyes full of fond amusement.

‘He pouts _so hard_ ,’ Alex agreed, emphatic and mischievous.

‘You’re all being mean. Yuzu isn’t that bad when he loses at stuff. It just…doesn’t happen all that often, I think it takes an adjustment,’ Maia laughed, shaking her head.

‘I think if the whole world expected me to be amazing at everything all the time, I wouldn’t handle losing well either,’ Shoma murmured, mostly to himself, starting slightly when he realised everyone was looking at him curiously. He shrugged. ‘I’m just saying,’ he mumbled, looking down. Misha bumped his shoulder fondly and Shoma looked over at him from the corner of his eye, suddenly feeling shy again. Misha offered him a wink, his smile kind.

‘Spoken with the heart of a Healer and the insight of an Artist, my friend,’ he said gently. Shoma blinked at him and Misha shrugged. ‘Yuzu isn’t the only one who doesn’t believe things are so straightforward around here,’ he added. ‘And after working with you in mixed sessions yesterday? I won’t be making the mistake of underestimating you any time soon.’ Shoma’s lips quirked into a small smile that he quickly smothered, looking away.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Shoma said, mostly to his shoes.

‘Sure you don’t,’ Misha told him dryly, elbowing him lightly in the side. ‘You’re dynamite, right? I know because I saw you go,’ Misha insisted. Shoma forced down a grin, looking studiously at his feet and scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor self-consciously. ‘Trouble,’ Misha laughed, ruffling his hair and smiling unbothered when Shoma shoved him away with a sheepish grin.

 

Shoma felt himself blushing slightly at the memory of yesterday’s mixed sessions. He wasn’t afraid of his power, but he was cautious of it, used to trying and failing to tamp it down. Trying to do that whilst also dealing with the sensation of a room full of every classification of power being used all at once was a daunting task, though, and with Yuzuru’s power added into the mix, prickling wildly at his back every time the other man looked his way, Shoma had felt drawn tight all day. It was an exhausting experience, but not entirely unpleasant. There was something truly fascinating about being able to watch people’s powers at work, to see the subtle differences in everyone’s strengths and feel the different energy that surrounded everyone as they focused themselves on their tasks; Shoma had watched in wonder as Satoko had summoned a tiny raincloud in the palm of her hand and Misha had conjured a waterfall of petals which had slowly transformed into a flower such a pure shade of white it had seemed to shimmer. The task had been simple enough, on the face of it: the Warriors and Artists would use their powers to summon a white flower and help it grow, then Healers would use their powers to bring colour and bloom to the pale, budded petals. It was an exercise in restoration and regrowth that made sense, given the problem at hand – something which, one day, may come to have some practical application. Shoma’s power responded in kind to the challenge it was faced with, however: his group’s flower hadn’t simply bloomed into colour with his touch, but had chosen instead to twist into new buds, growing and multiplying, each flower head a different colour from the last, all shrouded in a glow of hazy gold. Shoma had felt a little overwhelmed at the praise Misha, Satoko and Tracy had given his efforts. He had felt more overwhelmed still to glance up and find Yuzuru’s gaze on him, cutting across the room with his usual intensity – his eyes alight as he clapped a tiny, ridiculous little clap using only the tips of his fingers, his palms still pressed together like a delighted child.

 

After drawing that much attention to himself in the morning, it had been a relief to Shoma to find them doing more abstract work in the afternoon – examining flowers brought in from an actual Grey Zone, testing theories on them and sitting down for a group discussion which included some of the scientists from the research department. Shoma’s whole body had practically been vibrating by that point – set alight by his own power and suffering the aftershocks of everyone else’s. It had been almost soothing to be able to sit and stare into space, to listen to other people talking in measured, rational tones about facts and figures and things Shoma already knew from the news. By the end of the day he felt most people had managed to play down what he had revealed of his power to them. Most people except the two who kept casting knowing eyes over at him for the rest of the afternoon anyway: Yuzuru’s gaze was piercing and inescapable, and Shoma knew Tracy had been looking him over thoughtfully more than once too. It had been enough to make him pull down his sleeves and half-disappear inside his own jacket, practically bolting from the building and back to his room as soon as he got the chance.

 

That night Shoma had hit his pillow and blacked out in record time. He’d managed a good few hours of sleep before something jolted him awake a little after eleven o’clock; he’d put it down to hunger and snuck out to the near-deserted walkways around the courtyard, stopping by one of the late-night hole-in-the-wall takeaways and settling on a spot at the top of one of the shadowy staircases to eat it. He’d been about to head back to his room when he spotted him: Yuzuru, stealing across the courtyard for the second night in a row. Again he’d watched him glance back over his shoulder, pause, then slip into the shadows beyond. Only this time, when he saw him disappear through the gate, Shoma had crept further down the staircase and followed Yuzuru’s path, standing in front of the gate himself for a beat, staring wide-eyed into the darkness at the bottom of the steps beyond, holding his breath. The air left in Yuzuru’s wake crackled. Inviting and challenging and pervasive. It had made Shoma want to follow. But when he pushed on the gate it wouldn’t budge, and, chastened by the reminder that Yuzuru had clearly wanted to be alone, Shoma had quickly turned and disappeared back up to his room, curling up in his bed and pulling the covers over his head. He had hardly felt Yuzuru’s energy again until the morning, when he’d woken to an indecisive sky and the sound of the clifftop birds. He’d reached out for the feeling of him without hesitation, as though he’d needed to be sure he was still out there – still _real_ and not lost to the shadows that lurked beyond the gate – before he could face the day. It had made him smile when Yuzuru’s power reached back, as it always did. Almost like he’d been waiting.

 

Shoma was jolted out of his thoughts by someone resting an elbow on his head, and he ducked out from under it sharply, looking over to see Keiji smiling at him, amused and unapologetic.

‘What is always going on in that head of yours?’ he asked, settling for resting on Shoma’s shoulder instead. Keiji had slid into the spot Misha had been occupying, and Misha and the Shibutanis had vanished already, drifting over to where Yuzuru’s group was gathering on the opposite side of the courtyard. ‘You always look so thoughtful – either that or half-asleep. But today you seem bright enough to be reasonably well-rested, so I’m assuming there was maybe _something_ going on in there,’ Keiji added, knocking on Shoma’s skull to emphasise his point and laughing when Shoma attempted to glare at him.

‘I think about lots of stuff: maybe I keep it in my head for a reason, maybe I think it doesn’t need to be said,’ Shoma shrugged. Keiji arched an eyebrow, gesturing with his hand for Shoma to elaborate, and Shoma chewed his cheek thoughtfully before he continued. ‘Some people talk to fill space, you know? But I prefer to let the space be left – to make it easier for people to just breathe. Other times I guess people talk because they need to let it out. And then I like to be there to listen, so I can be ready to give a different view if someone asks.’ Keiji’s expression settled somewhere between surprised and thoughtful as he nodded slightly.

‘You run deeper than you want people to realise, don’t you.’

‘Maybe I run deeper than _people_ want people to realise,’ Shoma said quietly, leaning back on his hands and squinting his eyes against the faint hint of sun that peeked around the cotton-wool clouds above. ‘People like to simplify other people because it makes them feel like maybe they could simplify themselves. No one likes to admit the world is complicated and that people are messy; it leads to problems, and a lot of people like to pretend they have none.’ Shoma lowered his gaze, swallowing and looking across the courtyard again. Yuzuru was standing in the centre of his group, being jostled and joked with amongst the crowd. He was laughing, unreserved and open, like he hadn’t a care in the world; Misha and Alex were there, evidently teasing him, Javier standing beside him speaking in a low voice, his eyes twinkling – whatever he said made Yuzuru wince and bring a hand up to his blushing face, covering his eyes as he gasped out some retort that made the others laugh and tease him harder. Shoma sighed. ‘People don’t even like admitting the world has problems. They wait until they find someone who they think will fix it all for them, then they pile the weight on their shoulders instead and walk away without looking back to see if that person can bear it.’ Shoma smiled slightly as Yuzuru played up for his audience, obnoxiously loud and loveably silly. ‘I don’t think I could walk away, though. Not if I knew I could help. I know things are complicated – but challenges are supposed to be faced, right?’ Shoma glanced over at Keiji, whose head was tilted in thought as he contemplated Shoma’s words.

‘Day follows night. You push through and you have to have the faith that dawn will come, right? That what you put out there is going to come back to you in time.’

‘Right,’ Shoma agreed quietly. ‘I don’t think I’m afraid of anything, not so much that I think it will ever stop me. I mean, I came here, you know? But I get lost sometimes. And tired. I don’t want to speak to anyone or things can seem too much – I can’t sleep because things keep getting in that won’t let me switch my head off. I’m still happier knowing I’m a mess and not trying to deny it, though. Even when people laugh at me or judge me for it. Happier than I would be pretending to be any other way, I think. I don’t know how it feels to be another way, to be like anyone else; I can interpret it, but it will never be them, it will be them filtered through my perception. So why try for the sake of a bad impression of being “normal” or whatever? I want to be me even when it doesn’t make sense. That’s all I can do no matter the situation. No problem will get solved if I’m distracted trying to be in a place I’m not. People don’t always like that, though. So I’m just quiet or confused or sweet – something they can make manageable. And that’s ok too. If that’s what they need me to be in their mind then…I can live with that. It’s tiring, maybe, but I’d rather help them that way than try to force everything I am on them if they’re not in a place where they can handle it, because it’s a lot deal with someone else’s chaos. People should have a choice, who they see every side of and who they show every side to. But I still won’t outright pretend. Maybe I wish there were more people who didn’t expect me to, though.’ Shoma looked up at Keiji with slightly narrowed eyes. ‘Does that make sense?’ Keiji smiled reassuringly, knocking his elbow fondly against Shoma’s arm.

‘A lot, actually,’ he said gently. ‘All that time daydreaming has paid off: you have a wise head on your shoulders.’ Shoma smiled shyly, shrugging.

‘I don’t know. It’s just how I feel. I will fight to do the best I can do in everything, for everyone, but I know I have limitations. All I can do is push as far as I can in everything and try to play to my strengths. That’s all anyone can do. It’s just…not everyone is allowed to admit it. And that…doesn’t seem fair. Everyone should be allowed to be human. That’s where a person’s real magic is always going to be.’

 

Shoma found his gaze returning to the other side of the courtyard. Yuzuru had sat back down again, now taken aside into some new, more serious conversation. His knees were drawn up to his chest and there was an intent look upon his face as he nodded at something Takahito said. He somehow managed to be the loudest and the quietest energy in the room; the hum of him was insistent, but he could control it, centre it. Shoma envied him that control – for him it was on or off with little in between. It was part of what exhausted him so much about the Foundation: constantly having to go from high to low in a heartbeat, always tuned in to one extreme or another. Shoma wondered if Yuzuru needed to recharge too; if it was every bit as exhausting to always be edging one’s volume up and down in carefully-judged increments as it was to hurtle between extremes. Yuzuru was always making these constant allowances: for people and sessions and power, all whilst appearing like the world didn’t even touch him. Shoma knew it did though – he knew not just because he could sense it in him, but because he felt it himself too, a combination of power and emotion than could leave you feeling raw if too much information came at once. Shoma wondered if that was the secret of Yuzuru’s midnight escapes. At least Shoma could choose being “off” for a while; could shut down completely if he needed it. It must take a lot to always be shifting to varying to degrees of one’s self in fine measurements, with little chance to simply opt out. It must take more still for Yuzuru, since he seemed to have so very many different degrees of himself to choose from. He was, after all, every extreme at once, and everything in between. A whole galaxy of contradictions and stories and secrets. There were a million sides to him; the light which refracted out from him was dazzling, it was what distracted people from the very raw, vulnerable humanity contained within. But Shoma saw. Was almost haunted by how much he saw.

 

Yuzuru glanced up then, catching Shoma’s eye; more quiet, more sombre this time. He smiled – a pink, gentle thing that stuttered Shoma’s breath – then turned away once more. Shoma bit his lip. He needed to get out of his own head. He needed to stop trying to get into Yuzuru’s head. He needed to get over it already. The conversation around him was still rumbling on; Adam and Ashley were arguing over who sent what important bit of information to which incorrect email address, and Satoko and Wakaba were trying to explain some joke to Keiji who seemed to be being deliberately obtuse in order to frustrate them. Snatches of other, similar conversations drifted by on the light breeze from every corner of the courtyard, people talking over each other, still calling out morning greetings to the few remaining late arrivals. It all made for a strange sort of peace, rolling but calm; it was nice, but not enough. Shoma’s mind seemed to crave mysteries and heavy dusk and Yuzuru’s constant riddles.

 

At the sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat somewhere off towards the front, Shoma turned his head, looking over to where Brian had finally arrived at the head of the courtyard, the same look of benevolent despair on his face as he had worn on Shoma’s first day, his friendly face crinkled into a tired smile. He was almost entirely ignored by those assembled in front of him, and he was forced to clap his hands in order to command any attention at all; this didn’t seem to surprise him, his expression bordering on passive. ‘Alright, volume down, please!’ he called over the top of the buzz of conversation. He had authority, when he wanted it, and people turned immediately, a few greetings rising up from around the space, high and sweet and filled with faux-innocence. Brian nodded tolerantly, sharp, knowing eyes glinting with fondness and exhaustion in equal measure as he allowed the chorus to go on for a few moments longer than someone less kind may have done. ‘Yes, thank you,’ he said archly at last, smiling tightly. ‘Good morning, boys, girls, dutiful students of Wednesday lectures and, last but not least, of course, good morning to Javi.’

‘Hey, why am I in a group all of my own?!’

‘Oh, so many reasons, not least of which being your tendency to wander into all my lectures ten minutes late.’ Brian levelled a knowing look at Javier who looked back unbothered and amused.

‘Well he’s got you there,’ Yuzuru pointed out and Javier elbowed him, the two of them laughing and playfighting for a moment.

‘At least I’m not the weirdo at the front who’s always ten minutes early!’

‘What is wrong with _learning_?!’

‘What is wrong with taking life at my own pace and keeping well-caffeinated, Yuzu?!’

‘Being late! That’s what’s wrong!’

 

Brian watched them for a beat as they jostled with each other laughingly, smothering a faint smile and giving the slightest shake of his head. Shoma thought he’d seen his father pull the exact same face when watching him and Itsuki before now.

‘Boys?’ Brian said with a weary sigh, and both Yuzuru and Javier stilled for a moment, exchanging a look and smothering laughter before sitting back obediently, looking downwards like schoolchildren caught sneaking out of lessons by the headmaster. Brian shook his head at them again, biting back a laugh of his own before casting his eyes around to the group at large once more. ‘Now, whilst I’m sure that what you’re all gossiping about this Wednesday morning is of vital importance, and is no doubt endlessly fascinating to every one of us here today, I would be very grateful if you could all zip it for five whole minutes and listen to me, the man who is attempting to keep your lives here running smoothly and therefore has no interest in the details of your crushes, games, arguments, favourite TV shows or numbers of Instagram followers…’

 

It was like Brian had lit a match and tossed it out onto dry grass. Shoma almost jumped at the cacophony of whines that went up before Brian could even finish his sentence, and Brian winced as a series of retorts began to be fired back and forth across the courtyard. People were calling out from every corner at once, happily playing their parts in the scene as it unfolded: people yelled to each other, to no one, to everyone and to people who didn’t even seem to be there, each shout half-drowning out the next, sentences running together and conversations bouncing across the groups. Brian folded his arms and set in to wait, and Shoma half-suspected a part of him was rather enjoying watching them go.

 

‘Gabby’s messaging with some cute guy and she won’t tell me who he is!’

‘Javi stole my phone and confused the hell out of all my friends!’

‘Boyang got maple syrup on my new headphones!’

‘Adam woke me up at five this morning to ask me which selfie he should post!’

‘Oh, please, Mirai, you sent me about ten selfies of your own right back!’

‘The light was perfect! I looked like a sleepy princess.’

‘Exactly! And so did I! See, I do someone a favour and this is what I get. My God.’

‘Tessa booked time off and didn’t tell me and now my family are all asking why she’s not coming with me next week and I have to tell them she’s ditched me for Kaitlyn.’

‘I’m not to blame for the fact your family likes me, Scott.’

‘But you are, Tess: you’re a Disney princess, it’s ridiculous.’

‘Stop giving me the puppy-dog eyes, you know you creep me out when you pull that face.’

‘I will never stop giving you the puppy-dog eyes over this!’

‘I always go on holiday with you, you cannot have a breakdown over the one time I don’t.’

‘Then why are you friends with me, Tess? Think about it.’

‘Pretty sure we don’t want to start analysing how we’re still friends after all this time.’

‘I heard Patrick calling Yuzu names again!’

‘Javi! Don’t bring that up!’

‘Oh, what did you call me this time?!’

‘How are you so happy about this?’

‘I like when you call me names, it means I scare you.’

‘Fear is power.’

‘Javi, whose side are you on?!’

‘The side where you try to wriggle out of being really mean and I get to laugh.’

‘I wasn’t being mean! I just said some things and they got taken out of context and-’

‘He called you terrifyingly hyperactive, said you gave him a headache and decided you would probably have only half the power you do if you ever actually slept.’

‘I sleep.’

‘ _That’s_ the part you object to?’

‘I want it on the record that I was mostly complimenting your dedication to-’

‘But I _do_ sleep. With one eye open, but I sleep – I’m not insane.’

‘Debateable!’

‘Alex!’

‘What?! Maia, he was fine with Patrick insulting him, I’m just providing some more feedback.’

‘Actually, I’m with Alex, I think Patrick was really just stating facts. Except for the fact that I do sleep. Sometimes.’

‘See, Maia! Say what you like about Yuzu, but he’s honest.’

‘Say what you like about Yuzu, but Javi will definitely report it back to him, apparently.’

‘Say what you like about Yuzu, but I’m literally sitting right here so maybe you guys should stop pretending I can’t hear you saying it?!’

‘Hey, Patrick, if these guys are getting on your nerves: you wanna take time off and come visit my family with me? I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it at all, but Tess ditched me so…’

‘I’m getting a headache.’

‘I’d offer you an aspirin, but you made your bed when you booked time off without me, Tess.’

‘I just have a vision of Scott putting Patrick in a wig and trying to pass him off as Tessa to his family now and it is not going away any time soon.’

‘That, dear, sweet Maia, is a genius idea and I’m running with it.’

‘Hey, I never agreed to even go with you!’

‘Too late. We’re doing this. Pack the travel snacks and I’ll bring the wig and the music.’

‘And now everyone knows why I’m not going on leave with him this time…’

‘Misha broke my phone!’

‘It’s not my fault you can’t catch, Zhenya!’

‘It’s your fault you threw it in the pool, Misha!’

‘It’ll be fine. We will dry it. You’ll see.’

‘You have a terrible understanding of technology.’

‘Ashley stole my hair straighteners.’

‘Borrowed! I borrowed! Borrowed is definitely the word we need to focus on here, I cannot face criminal charges over a hair-related emergency, guys.’

‘Nobu woke me up last night to chase a spider out of his room!’

‘Kana, he was the size of my whole head!’

‘Zhenya and Alina invited us to join their movie night but it turned into a ghost stories night instead and now I’m scarred for life because they know the creepiest stories!’

‘Waka’s scared of the dark now.’

‘You don’t have to sound so happy about it, Satton!’

‘Sorry, but you were kinda cute huddled under you blanket.’

 

Brian was nodding through the noise with practiced patience, as though it were a script that had been played out many times before. Shoma smirked, looking around at all the people still calling out random facts, and across the courtyard Yuzuru caught his eye, a silly grin on his face. Shoma widened his eyes in a joking show of terror that made Yuzuru smirk then pull a goofy face of his own, wrinkling his nose up and shrugging. Shoma shrugged back, rolling his eyes in an exaggeratedly exhausted gesture that made Yuzuru laugh brightly, and Shoma smothered his own smile, looking back over towards Brian with a slight blush and pretending he couldn’t hear Yuzuru’s absurd laugh, incongruously loud across the space.

 

‘Ok, kids – I take everything back, you are all clearly very interesting and I am wholly and completely grateful for the insight this little chat has given me into your varied and fascinating social lives, but if we could perhaps get back to the matter at hand…?’ There was an eruption of exaggerated whines and teasing protests, and again Brian nodded through them, his expression the perfect pretence of sympathy even as he wearily closed his eyes. ‘You know, you should all maybe be nicer to the man with the authority to ask the twenty-four-hour burger joint adjacent to your accommodation block to close down…’ There was a rumble of protest that was laced with a very genuine sense of panic and Shoma laughed, sharing a questioning glance with Keiji.

‘He wouldn’t,’ Keiji insisted.

‘Shh, we shouldn’t risk it,’ Adam stage-whispered, eyes wide in a show of terror.

 

‘I thought that might get your attention.’ Brian was smiling knowingly, looking over them all with eyebrows raised, face red and amused. ‘So, can I please get on with what I have to say so we can all get out of here before the next millennium?’ He paused a moment, waiting for protest and smiling slightly when none came. ‘Very good. Thank you: you are all very kind, wonderful, well-behaved individuals. Let’s try and remember that next time one of you feels like telling me a story in the middle of a sentence.’ He gave a twinkly-eyed smile to them all then a quick nod of his head. ‘Ok, so, as you all know it’s that time of the week again: Wednesday lectures are upon us and there’s a lot happening so listen up. As always you have a choice of which lectures you attend, but we do expect you to put in an appearance for at least one of the options laid on for you, and I do mean in both the morning and the afternoon. No matter what you might think, we will find out if you don’t. So, a little taste of today. A lot of you old hands will be very excited to know that Jeff is back from another year out with the charity group he’s been working with around Canada – he has kindly agreed to give you guys a talk on some of the experiences he’s had in dealing with healing people who have managed to escape Grey Zones, focusing particularly on issues surrounding memory and reintroduction to colour, though he also has some insights regarding The Snatchers that you may be interested in, based on first-hand accounts from those who he has been working with. All I ask is that those of you who desperately want to catch up with Jeff on a personal level please try and contain yourselves until the talk is over and you have legitimate free time to spend hugging the life out of him – Yuzu, you know I’m looking at you so don’t even try to pretend to be innocent: he’s only just got the air back in is lungs from when you met up with him on his last visit and I’m fairly confident he will need oxygen for his talk to have its full impact, ok? Now, the Warriors amongst you might be interested to know Rafael has agreed to give a lecture on channelling energy today – he tells me he will be largely focusing on channelling under stress and switching between attack and defence more efficiently. We all hope you will never find yourselves in a situation where you have to use these skills, but I’m afraid we’re having to send more and more of you out into places where the public mood has turned, and indeed to places where Snatchers have been spotted, and we simply don’t want to take any risks with anyone’s personal safety, so I urge you, if this is something you feel you could ever be confronted with then do please attend Rafael’s lecture and show him the respect he deserves so I don’t have him in my office complaining about any of you at the end of the day.’ Brian cast his eyes over the group, eyebrows raised. ‘What, no snide comebacks?’

‘You scared us by threatening to take away our twenty-four-hour access to burgers – you should really make the most of this moment,’ one of the Warrior girls sitting amongst a group of Canadians called out. Brian smiled kindly, eyes twinkling.

‘Finally, I’ve learnt the secret to reining you kids in; thank you, Gabby, for that welcome reassurance. It’s a milestone in my career that I will happily report back to our sponsors when they ask me for updates on our progress here.’ Gabby smiled, amused.

‘You’re welcome,’ she told him brightly, unfazed, and Brian nodded back knowingly, before clasping his hands once more, expression sobering a little.

‘So,’ he sighed. ‘For those of you who like to be more practical than theoretical, Ghislain is around today running a lecture that is at least part training session for Warriors based on work the research department have been doing regarding group energy channelling that will be up on the board as Power Tunnels And Magnification  – for it to work he’ll need quite a few of you to be there, so please, Warriors, don’t waste his time by deciding you’d rather attend a lecture all your friends will be in instead. Artists – the Warriors aren’t the only ones getting the specialist treatment today: Stéphane will be giving a fascinating lecture titled Living Colour And Memory Imprints. It’s a talk that I myself have already heard a preview of, and I can promise you it is something very interesting as a possible future area of experimentation that we may bring into sessions soon. Healers, you won’t be left out either – by popular demand, Mihoko is going to reprise her wonderful Power Infusion talk, which focuses a lot on words’ healing properties, though she has expanded the scope of her research now to look across power classifications for those non-Healers amongst you who might be curious. There are several other talks and demonstrations happening, many of which you will be familiar with as we are repeating a few talks for the benefit of our newest recruits here, but as always everything will be repeated in the morning and the afternoon to give you all the best possible chance to attend the lectures you are most interested in, so don’t waste the opportunity. The full list will be posted on the boards as you come into the lecture building along with details about times and rooms and whether or not the lecture will be available to download later. Now, wherever you end up today, I do ask that you all go online and download the video and notes for Tracy’s lecture, which is on Power Combinations And Emotions. Not only has Tracy been looking into this topic in enormous detail for some time now, but we also think there is some real merit in what she has discovered, meaning it is of extreme relevance to all of you and will be something you will be looking at in your sessions in the coming weeks.’ Brian narrowed his eyes slightly, as though considering whether to go on or not. Shoma wondered how much of the information he handled on a daily basis actually made it into his morning meetings; he was honest with them, perhaps more honest than he wanted to be, but he was almost too indulgent of them for a man who negotiated with governments and powerful international donors on a daily basis. ‘So, not to spoil the mood this lovely Wednesday morning, but I do have some news to deliver regarding the situation that developed over the past few days in Singapore. The Singapore government have been in close contact with us – some of our scientists and researchers have already left for the country as of this morning, but, given the understandably tense mood over there, I have agreed that a small Foundation delegation will come on an official visit in the near future and perhaps look at running some tests and demonstrations; I know these will no doubt be tests we have run before that haven’t come through, but it’s important you are all seen to be using your powers and becoming more accomplished with them, and the best way to do that is by going to affected areas and being seen by the world’s media to be present and active in trying to help efforts there. I will contact those of you who I’m considering taking in the coming weeks so we can start working out some details, but in the meantime, I would like you all to keep yourselves up to date with the latest developments so you will be well-informed should you be chosen for the trip.’ He offered a tight smile. ‘Ok. So, with that out of the way, the only thing I have left to tell you all is that our friends from Japanese TV are still around; after a little discussion over the past couple of days, we have agreed a bit of a wider scope for them, granting them some more access to those of you who feel comfortable talking. The one thing I would like to make very clear to all of you is that they have only been granted permission for the most surface level of interviews: if they start quizzing beyond what you are comfortable with, or press you in any way to give opinions on the Grey Zone issue, then you come to me and I will speak with them. I’m reasonably certain they won’t push it, as this is part of a wider compromise we have reached with them regarding access, but we have all been there before with the media, and for that reason I will just ask you to be on your guard.’

 

It was so quick it could have been missed, but Shoma caught it: the brief glance Brian flicked in the direction of Yuzuru. Shoma followed the line of his gaze, studying the other man curiously; he was looking down, resting his chin on his knees and hiding behind a curtain of sleek, dark hair. Javier was whispering some query by his ear, and Yuzuru mumbled something back; Shoma just caught the wry quirk of his lips and the arch of his eyebrow. Javier narrowed his eyes at Yuzuru for a moment, then slowly looked up – his gaze fell immediately on Shoma, who swallowed nervously, staring back like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Javier smiled slightly, slow and impressed, miming a “Thank you” Shoma’s way, and Shoma smiled shyly back, shrugging it off. Javier leant in again then, muttering something to Yuzuru, and Shoma quickly turned back towards Brian before Yuzuru could catch him looking yet again. ‘In terms of other news, I don’t think there’s anything new to tell any of you urgently; come the end of the week there might be a few updates on some of our research projects, but at this particular moment in time, I think you’re all free to make the most of the twenty minutes or so you have before lectures begin. Please – be on time for lectures, be bright, be attentive, be reasonably good human beings and do me proud. And, above all, for goodness’ sake, no one embarrass me in front of the Japanese media. _Not even you, Mr. Hanyu_. I will see some of you at my lecture on Mental Techniques For Combatting Power-Related Burnout, which will be every bit as wildly exciting as it sounds, let me assure you. Those of you I have asked personally to be there, although I know you will be raring to go when the time comes, just in case you’re not, it might be wise to remember I have asked you to be there for a reason and that reason is to _help you_ , so try and be grateful if you can.’ There was a chorus of grumbles and groans which Brian simply smiled at. ‘And when you find yourselves in front of an unappreciative audience giving a speech on your life’s work, I will remember this moment and have no sympathy for you at all. Now off you go: gossip away, go back to being truly awful to each other and damaging everyone’s property – Patrick, maybe give not talking about Yuzu a go, even if Yuzu seems to see your interesting observations as compliments, Tessa I can get you that aspirin if you need it and the rest of you, I beg you, find something better to do with your time than what you have been doing so far. I will see you all here again on Friday morning – don’t be late, it is on all your timetables, no excuses.’

 

As they had at the previous meeting, everyone began to scramble to their feet before Brian had even finished talking – Brian took it without affront, magnanimous and vaguely entertained as he watched them. He gave a knowing nod, his gaze strangely caring as he paused for a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary before sighing and turning away, disappearing off up one of the staircases, phone already out and glued to his ear.

 

‘Earth to Shoma: do you want to come get drinks before lectures with us or are you already meeting people?’ Keiji interrupted Shoma’s thoughts, and Shoma looked up at him in mild confusion. Keiji laughed at his blank expression, cuffing him round the head fondly. ‘Drinks? As in something with rocket fuel in maybe, because I think you are really going to need it at this rate if you’re planning on making it through Wednesday Lectures fully conscious…?’ he grinned. Shoma pulled a face.

‘I’m not a complete hopeless case, you know: I understood the concept,’ he grumbled amicably, getting to his feet. ‘I was taking my time.’

‘Because you can’t rush a decision about high-sugar beverages?’ Satoko questioned.

‘Or because you’re a general pain to be around?’ Wakaba asked, beaming too widely to seem even a little unkind. Shoma snorted, rolling his eyes and leaning back with a groan.

‘Why do you people think you know me so well already?’ he complained lightly and Wakaba laughed, bumping her shoulder into his.

‘Because we love you,’ she cooed playfully.

‘Because you’re really not even half as cool and moody as you think?’ Satoko offered more dryly.

‘Because you keep hanging around with us even though all you do is complain about us,’ Keiji put in. Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Well, when you put it like that…’ he sighed, flashing the others a small smirk.

‘Yeah, yeah – and we love you too,’ Keiji told him with a grin.

 

Shoma was about to pick up his backpack when something suddenly hit the back of his calves, unbalancing him somewhat. He buckled, letting out a soft yelp followed by a dull huff of breath as someone flung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him forcefully backwards against their chest, their arm briefly closing across his throat before settling at his collarbone. Shoma didn’t need to look to know the culprit of the attack: his body felt like a tuning fork at the contact – pure, musical and vibrating.

‘Shoma!’ Yuzuru’s voice was bright and laughing, his breath tickling Shoma’s ear, and for a moment Shoma simply stared, craning around to try and look up into his face. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist,’ Yuzuru added only a little sheepishly, brushing some flyaway strands of hair out of his face and loosening his grip on Shoma a little as he caught his breath. He seemed oblivious to the way everyone around them was staring at them both in surprise, but Shoma felt himself blushing slightly under the scrutiny of so many eyes – something that wasn’t helped by the intense brightness of Yuzuru’s hopeful smile. ‘I was wondering if you’d come to Tracy’s lecture with me? I know you probably made plans already – but I think Tracy’s talk today would be interesting to you…you have such a unique view on things, I’d love to know what you think of what she has to say.’

 

Shoma stared back at him for a moment, wide eyed; he saw something in Yuzuru’s face which could have been nervousness, and it was as curious as it was endearing. There was a peculiar sense of expectation in the air, not only from Yuzuru but also from those watching them, and Shoma realised even Adam and Ashley had looked up from their relentless bickering to watch the exchange. He chewed at his lip, staring at Yuzuru’s face – a soft, silly face in that moment, strangely innocent with his raised eyebrows and tentatively curving lips. ‘Shoma?’ he prompted with another soft laugh and Shoma felt a smile touch his lips.

‘Um…sure?’ he said, laughing somewhat breathily, and Yuzuru’s whole face was taken over by a wild grin.

‘Really?’ Shoma managed a vague nod and, if it was possible, Yuzuru’s grin seemed to widen. ‘Thank you!’ He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, gesturing vaguely in the other direction. ‘I have to go sort something out with Javi but…could you meet me here in ten minutes maybe?’ Shoma nodded again, a little more decisively this time, his whole body swaying forward a little in a bewildered half-bow.

‘Ok,’ he managed in a small voice, and Yuzuru’s face scrunched up in an affectionate smile.

‘Ok – I’ll see you then, Shoma,’ he said in a light, dancing tone, already backing away. He waved – half to Shoma and half to the group at large – before turning quickly and hurrying off to where Javier was waiting for him with an enquiring look that was answered largely by Yuzuru’s elbow being buried in Javier’s side.

 

Shoma stared after Yuzuru for a moment, biting his bottom lip raw as he worked to try and sort through the complicated combination of feelings which were all rising up within him at once. But for the twist of his mouth as he pulled at the skin there, he managed to keep his expression neutral and open, looking with wide eyes in the direction Yuzuru had disappeared before turning slowly back to the group, eyebrows raised in a show of innocence as they all stared back at him curiously. He wasn’t sure any of them were buying his clueless act in that moment, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he could even explain what had just happened anyway.

 

The well of emotion in Shoma ran deep; he felt with his whole being, without reservation or any real sense of self-preservation, at least until he hit his limit and shut himself down completely. But on the surface he could make it appear as if the world was something very distant from him, could keep himself together under almost any kind of pressure until he felt it was safe to fall apart. It protected him, to an extent, helped maintain his calm even when he didn’t truly feel it – but there was an edge to it, something that made people misunderstand him sometimes, because they expected the emotion to come from him too quickly, demanded it too readily, before he’d had time to process it, to form it into something he understood himself and could put into words. The friends he was making for himself at the Foundation occupied a strange in-between place, however. Unlike his family and his close friends back home, he couldn’t be sure they knew him well enough to see the wealth of feeling that lay behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t say they entirely underestimated him either; he wasn’t sure how easy it would be to fool them, or if he even wanted to. Yuzuru’s outstretched hand of friendship had been offered to him without secrecy now, and without any hint of uncertainty – he had thrown himself forcefully into Shoma’s company with the same openness and enthusiasm he offered everyone else. And yet there was still something secret between them – something beneath the surface. Shoma wasn’t sure he understood how those two states could coexist just yet and he was struggling to adjust to the idea. Until now they had only really talked when no one else was around, their words winding and dipping into whispers – Yuzuru had told him things Shoma was certain he would not have shared had they not been alone, had Shoma not been Shoma and had Yuzuru not seen whatever it was he saw in Shoma’s eyes. And then there was that pull: that ocean swell beneath the surface that only the two of them knew existed. Silent, invisible but constant. Powerful. Something no one else could know and Shoma wasn’t even sure he could explain if he wanted to. After all, no one could feel what they could feel, no one else had the power to – and even if they did, would it feel the same? If the pull wasn’t Yuzuru and the reach wasn’t Shoma? If they weren’t sun and thunder themselves, would they ever know what that energy sounded like in Shoma’s ears?

 

Shoma swallowed hard, tried to keep the muscles in his face relaxed and to stop tearing at the skin on his lips, because now he could taste blood on his tongue and that couldn’t be good. Keiji quirked an eyebrow at him and Satoko’s eyes were also narrowed his way. Wakaba was smiling faux-sweetly, her head resting on Satoko’s shoulder and her eyes vaguely pleading.

‘So…what was that, exactly?’ came a voice behind him, and Shoma turned to see Ashley looking at him, her arms folded and one eyebrow arched.

‘ _That_ was the very rare, wild, lesser-tufted Yuzu-bird offering to come out of his Wednesday lectures cave of solitude because he wants to enjoy the company of young Shoma here,’ Adam put in, getting to his feet and leaning an elbow on Ashley’s shoulder, fixing Shoma with a wicked smile. ‘Care to share what your secret is, babe?’ Shoma sucked at his bottom lip, running his tongue over the sore patch he’d bitten too hard at and shrugging lamely.

‘Lil’ Shooms here has been holding out on us: networking with the popular kids then acting all cute and quiet when he comes to hang with us,’ Ashley said, her eyes glinting wildly and her glossy lips curved up into a kind but mischievous smirk. Shoma narrowed his eyes at her.

‘I’m not even the shortest one here! And aren’t we literally the same height?!’ he pointed out.

‘He’s got you there, Ash,’ Adam muttered.

‘Also, I don’t think it counts as me coming to you, technically; you sort of just…turned up when I wasn’t paying attention…’ Shoma added.

‘Hey now, in our defence? You don’t pay attention, like…a lot.’ Ashley’s eyes glinted. ‘And more importantly? I’m wearing my fancy boots today, so I’ve got _inches_ on you right now, kid!’ She laughed, not unkindly, performing a dramatic twirl that showed off her high-heeled boots to maximum effect and finishing in an elegant pose. Shoma let out a shy, helpless laugh of his own, tipping his head back.

‘I give up,’ he groaned.

‘Well if you will make friends with Yuzu behind our backs…’ Wakaba put in.

‘You’re not helping,’ Shoma told her.

‘I wasn’t trying to,’ she beamed back, laughing when he stuck his tongue out at her.

‘Oo, look out, guys – Shoma’s bodyguards are coming for you all,’ Adam remarked, nodding his head towards something over Shoma’s shoulder. ‘Seriously, if you got those two to stand either side of you all day with a couple ear pieces in? Even Ashley would stop treating you like a puppy. They’re like human skyscrapers next to you.’ Shoma turned around and smiled slightly when he saw who Adam was looking at: Boyang and Nathan, crossing the courtyard towards him with easy smiles. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but in that moment they felt very much like his bodyguards: welcome protection, distracting the group from needling him about why Yuzuru wanted to spend his time on him all of a sudden.

 

‘Hey, man, we were going to grab some snacks and head over to lectures – you want to come with?’ Nathan said as he came up to join them, giving an acknowledging nod of his head to the group at large. Boyang grinned at Shoma toothily.

‘I have so many new developments to tell you about pancake toppings,’ he announced, and Shoma laughed.

‘He’s discovered the Belgian waffles place too now. It’s…a lot,’ Nathan said with a faux-grimace, and Boyang elbowed him. ‘So, you in or what? Sugary drinks, power-based learning…intense food-related discourse…?’ Nathan asked, raising his eyebrows at Shoma expectantly. Shoma opened his mouth to reply, but Keiji interrupted, suddenly throwing an arm around his shoulders.

‘Actually, Shoma is already spoken for today – the most popular kid in town here got an invite from Yuzuru already,’ he said, pulling Shoma in and ruffling his hair. Shoma scrunched up his face in distaste, wriggling away from him and giving him a shove, and Keiji laughed, releasing him and putting his hands up in surrender, though his grin remained unashamed. Shoma stifled a smile, narrowing his eyes at Keiji in a playful glare before looking back at Nathan and Boyang with a rueful smile.

‘I mean…he’s not wrong, I guess,’ he said, shrugging awkwardly. ‘Yuzu asked me, so I kinda told it was fine already,’ he added then, feeling strangely embarrassed, scrunching up his face and watching Nathan’s reaction through a squint.

‘That’s so cool – how’d you score that gig?’ Nathan smiled, looking genuinely impressed.

‘That’s what we all wanna know,’ Ashley put in. Shoma squirmed.

‘I don’t think it’s deep or anything, he’s probably just being nice,’ he said.

‘Wow,’ Boyang sighed dreamily. ‘I wish Yuzuru would invite me to lectures. Or just to lunch. I could listen to him talk all day,’ he added, eyes starry, and Shoma and Nathan exchanged a look before bursting out laughing.

‘Dude, this crush is getting out of hand,’ Nathan grinned.

‘But he’s so cool and friendly and powerful!’ Boyang insisted. Shoma smothered another laugh – it wasn’t as though he could disagree, but Boyang had talked just as dreamily about pancakes, and it was comical to see him turn that enthusiasm Yuzuru’s way.

‘If it helps anyone to know this? Yuzu’s also a giant pain the neck,’ Keiji put in, smiling too warmly to be thought of as being mean. ‘He’s a little brat when he wants to be.’

‘Yeah, he’s super high-maintenance,’ Adam added with an airy sigh, and Ashley let out a derisive snort.

‘Oh my God, you are the least self-aware human I’ve ever met,’ she told him, shoving him forcefully.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Adam laughed as he stumbled back, failing at keeping up any pretence of innocence.

‘Sure. Whatever. Keep telling yourself that,’ Ashley told him, rolling her eyes. ‘Now come on, babe, we told Mirai we would go support her and Karen at their joint talk and I’m pretty sure that when she said she wanted “support” she meant “bring caffeine to us before we have to go up there or else”, you know?’

‘Fine. But, Shoma? I’m hunting you, Nathan and Boyang down later and you’re giving me a whole “Pint-Size Mobster And His Security Detail” moody Instagram photoshoot,’ Adam said, pointing at Shoma with a mischievously intense expression.

‘Yeah, that is definitely not happening,’ Nathan said blankly.

‘You’re such a killjoy, Nate, honestly,’ Adam pouted before reluctantly letting Ashley grab him forcefully by the sleeve and pull him away. ‘Oh, by the way, Ashley wanted to feed you to lions! You owe me your _life_ , Nathan!’ Adam yelled back over his shoulder as Ashley  aimed a kick at his shins. Shoma watched them go somewhat blankly, feeling vaguely insulted by the two of them but not entirely sure he could muster the energy to be annoyed about it.

 

Shoma looked back over at Keiji, glancing between him and Wakaba, his brows drawn together.

‘Is it really that big a deal that Yuzuru wants me to go to a lecture with him?’ he asked them, and they both seemed to take pity on him, their amused expressions gentling.

‘Not really. Yuzu’s friends with everyone,’ Wakaba said earnestly. Keiji pulled a face.

‘I mean…during lectures he’s usually either with Javi or Taka, or he goes his own way entirely. But it’s hardly the most dramatic thing Yuzu’s ever done; he’s kind of unpredictable. And Waka’s right – he’s friends with everyone. I don’t think he’s trying to drag you into some project or experiment or anything – he probably meant what he said and is just interested in your point of view.’

‘Maybe it’s all that talk of magic and impossible things you guys were doing,’ Nathan said in a low voice, leaning in just enough so only Shoma could properly hear. Shoma shot him a half-hearted glare, his lips twisting into a reluctant smile.

‘I want to go back to bed and I’m not even that tired for once,’ he groaned. The others laughed, but Satoko offered him a sympathetic smile.

‘You want us to grab a drink for you?’ she offered gently. Shoma nodded enthusiastically.

‘Definitely.’ Satoko’s eyes twinkled at him almost mischievously, but she passed no comment, simply smiling warmly.

‘No problem. Same order as before, right?’ she asked and Shoma nodded again.

‘ _Please_. You’re a lifesaver.’

‘I’ll remember you said that next time you’re being mean to me,’ she teased lightly, winking at him, and Shoma flashed her a genuine smile. Keiji nudged him then.

‘Look, it’s Yuzu, you know? He’s not expecting anything from you, he’s just being friendly. Relax, Shoma. Everyone’s just teasing because they’re jealous. We all want quality time with Yuzu, because he makes things fun and all the mentors go easy on him so you get away with stuff just by being next to him,’ he offered gently, giving Shoma’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘Stop freaking out because of Adam and Ashley – they’re crazy. Yuzu being friendly isn’t new. Yuzu being cryptic isn’t new either. He’s not testing you; if you’ve talked to him already, then you know – he’s just reaching out. It’s what he does.’

 

Shoma nodded absently, but he couldn’t help the slight curl of doubt in the pit of his stomach. Talking with Yuzuru in the cool evening air, away from the intrusions of other eyes and other powers: it was easy. But he wasn’t sure who he was in Yuzuru’s eyes during daylight hours – he wasn’t sure it would be so natural to interact with the Yuzuru who was on show, the one who didn’t let his guard down for a second and rarely seemed to whisper. He tried to swallow down his nerves, remind himself Yuzuru was just a person; powerful, but messy and full of feeling just like anyone else. He remembered the previous night, sitting under the stars and hearing the catch in his voice as he’d spoken of his mother; it was all the reminder he needed that he’d made his choice of how he saw Yuzuru, and no matter how many other eyes were looking, he shouldn’t be so callous as to change the way his own eyes saw him now. He wasn’t the boy in the headlines to Shoma – never really had been. Shoma saw the person Yuzuru was offering him. The storm who caused his mother headaches and the gentle heart who laughed at dancing butterflies, the humble, wide-eyed dreamer who had held his wrist in his hands that night and met his eyes with gentle-faced wonder. And above all Shoma _felt_ that person. The full force of him. Yuzuru’s drums were enough to drown out all traces of other powers, when Shoma let them. They could probably block out the feeling of a hundred eyes too.

 

Shoma closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reaching out silently. He almost jumped at how quickly the feeling reached back; like he’d taken a running leap for something only to crash straight into its wall. It was almost an adrenaline rush to be surprised by it that way – something addictive and wild. Like collapsing into the arms of an old friend after a long time apart, or running in through the front door of his home after a tough day; somehow, as much of an unknown as Yuzuru still was to him, Shoma knew enough to find his constant presence on the edge of his consciousness both exhilarating and safe at the same time. If he was honest with himself, daunted or not, he craved his company – the sense of distant power and cryptic smiles across a courtyard was something, something compelling. But it wasn’t enough anymore.

 

‘Shoma!’ Shoma turned sharply at the sound of Yuzuru’s voice, melodic in the light morning air, and he couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips when he saw him, leaning slightly over the railings of one of the staircases, beaming at Shoma like he was the best thing he’d ever seen and beckoning him over with a wild gesture of his hand. ‘Are you coming?’ Yuzuru added, eyebrows raised and lips parted, something in his expression suggesting he was preparing to be left crestfallen with disappointment but couldn’t resist hoping anyway. Shoma’s chest felt tight and he let out a small, soft little sound from the back of his throat that was almost a laugh – he managed a vague nod, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder and heading towards him, and Yuzuru grinned like something amazing had happened.

 

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re loud?’ Shoma asked as he crossed the courtyard, and Yuzuru pulled a face at him.

‘What, you want me to send smoke signals next time?’ he asked, eyes twinkling in amusement. Shoma smothered a smirk.

‘Paper airplane?’ he suggested, coming up the stairs a little further and squinting up at Yuzuru from under his fringe. Yuzuru turned gracefully, spinning on a heel and tapping a finger to his chin as if in consideration.

‘My style is a little more dramatic. I’d go with an actual plane towing a banner, I think,’ he grinned, falling into step with Shoma, and Shoma laughed, his whole face scrunching up.

‘How can you even be loud when you’re quiet?’ he groaned and Yuzuru offered him a smile that was part wince, his nose wrinkled and eyes two crescents.

‘It’s a gift?’

‘Can you return it?’

‘Shoma! You’re so mean!’

‘You picked me, you got me,’ Shoma shrugged. Yuzuru let out another elated laugh.

 

Shoma bit his lip, casting a cautious sidelong glance at Yuzuru; he was beaming, still looking at Shoma with pure delight in his face, and Shoma relaxed a little more. It was starting to occur to him that, when the two of them were talking, it didn’t make much different who was watching – they had a rhythm worked out between them already, instinctive and easy. ‘You know that kick you launched at me earlier is probably going to bruise, right?’ he joked and Yuzuru pursed his lips, running a vaguely guilty hand through his fringe and making a valiant effort not to grin again.

‘Sorry. I couldn’t resist, though: you were on another planet.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘That was a terrible apology,’ he shot back, elbowing Yuzuru lightly and winning another bright laugh in return.

‘I could heal you, if you’d like – would that make us even?’

‘Isn’t that like asking the murderer to run the police investigation though?’ Shoma smirked. Yuzuru let out a playful gasp of protest and Shoma shot him a mischievous smile, raising his eyebrows in a show of curiosity. ‘What? It’s true, right?!’

‘So harsh! How do you think so little of me, Shoma?!’ Yuzuru laughed, elbowing Shoma back and trying not to smile. Shoma tried to keep his expression neutral even as his eyes glinted wickedly.

‘You’re ridiculous, you know that?’ he asked, trying and failing to mask the strange fondness that edged his words. Yuzuru shot him a sidelong look, the very corner of his mouth curling up into a soft smile.

‘Ridiculous? Really, Shoma?’ Shoma offered him a small smile, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

‘I mean…you’re a lot of things,’ he said more quietly, glancing down. ‘But I think ridiculous pretty much covers it.’ Yuzuru let out a gentler laugh at that, giving him a slight bump with his shoulder.

‘From you, Shoma? I’m taking this as a compliment.’ Shoma looked up at him from the corner of his eye.

‘Good,’ he murmured. Yuzuru met his gaze, expression open and a smile in his eyes. Shoma smiled back. ‘It was supposed to be.’ Yuzuru’s lips twisted to one side in a stifled grin and Shoma quickly looked away again. Yuzuru leant in, jostling him lightly with his elbow.

‘You’re ridiculous too, Shoma,’ he said softly, but somehow with immense feeling. Shoma glanced at him sceptically and he laughed. ‘People don’t say that enough,’ he added, tipping his head in thought. ‘But how can anything be interesting if it isn’t a little bit ridiculous? A little wild, right?’ Shoma let out a laugh.

‘I’ve known you since Sunday, and yet I already know that was one of the most _you_ things you could have said just now,’ he smiled, and Yuzuru laughed, full and unreserved.

‘Shoma!’ He was shaking his head and looking upwards, pleased and giddy, laughter still on his face. ‘Well, I’ve known you since Sunday and I already know you aren’t even half as cynical as you want people to believe.’

‘Try me,’ Shoma shrugged, smirking. Yuzuru beamed.

‘Always challenging!’ he declared. ‘I’ll test you, you’ll see.’

‘You test everyone’s understanding of everything, Yuzuru. It’s the same as breathing to you,’ Shoma laughed, playfully giving his leg a kick and grinning and ducking out of the way when Yuzuru yelped, attempting to kick him in return.

 

They jostled for a moment, laughing and light, and Shoma realised how peaceful it felt to be around him – even with all his static and crackle, even with the eyes of others and the absence of dusk and whispers. Yuzuru was alight – but so was Shoma, in his company. ‘Why are you bothering with me?’ Shoma ventured after a beat. Yuzuru looked over at him with wide, surprised eyes and Shoma shrugged awkwardly. ‘I’m a disaster. And you’re…you,’ he sighed. ‘Why is that even remotely interesting to you?’

‘Who says I’m not a disaster too? In my own way?’ Yuzuru asked gently. Shoma looked over at him from the corner of his eye, arching a sceptical eyebrow, and Yuzuru pulled a face at him. ‘You’ve heard about me, right? I have a reputation, so I must be a certain way?’

‘No.’ Shoma shook his head emphatically, looking over at Yuzuru with wide, honest eyes. ‘I mean…yeah. Of course I’ve heard about you; I’m alive, I have eyes and ears and access to the internet. But that’s not…’ He sighed, scrunching his face up in distaste. ‘I never listened to that stuff. That’s a gossip column, not a person. I don’t care about some big reputation or whatever. I care about-’ He cut himself off, blowing out a long breath and looking down at the ground, trying to find the heart of what he wanted to convey. ‘I just care, that’s all. And I don’t know if I’m supposed to.’

 

There was a beat of quiet between them in which Shoma avoided Yuzuru’s piercing gaze. And then Yuzuru bumped their knuckles together gently, and Shoma looked up with a start, meeting his eyes curiously as Yuzuru hooked their little fingers together, whisper-soft.

‘You always have the right to care, Shoma. It’s in your nature, and you shouldn’t have to change it. You don’t need my permission to be who you are.’ Yuzuru’s smile was faint but charming; a pale, delicate curve that Shoma’s eyes drifted down to for a moment. ‘You’re not someone who makes demands in exchange for that care, it would be wrong to make demands of you for giving it.’

‘Sometimes caring can become something indelible, though,’ Shoma mumbled. Yuzuru squeezed his finger slightly and Shoma looked up into his eyes again. ‘Once you’ve heard someone’s secrets, they can’t be unheard – it’s an invitation that can never be taken back.’ Yuzuru smiled.

‘And those secrets were already sold to you; permission given, no catches. And the sound of someone’s soul can’t be unheard either, Shoma. Some invitations are invisible; a part of us has made them before the rest of us can catch up. And then it isn’t up to the other person any longer: you have to make the decision for yourself whether or not you step through the open gate. You have to be sure in your own decisions; you have to want to know because of more than just power or instinct. Sometimes it has to come down to heart.’ Shoma’s breath stuttered slightly and he narrowed his eyes at Yuzuru thoughtfully, forehead creasing into a frown at his choice of words. He couldn’t have meant anything by it – Shoma was sure he couldn’t; after all, the gate he had watched Yuzuru disappear through two nights in a row had definitely not been open when Shoma had tried it, blocked by some invisible latch. But Yuzuru wasn’t someone who seemed to choose his words carelessly. Shoma shivered and Yuzuru’s eyes glimmered, dark and dangerous. ‘Come on,’ he said suddenly, grabbing Shoma’s hand fully and tugging him forcefully towards him. ‘It’s time to run.’

‘Huh?’ Shoma frowned, but Yuzuru didn’t reply, he simply grinned and took off, pulling Shoma along behind him as he went.

 

Yuzuru’s moods seemed to always be changeable that way, so full of every extreme. Shoma couldn’t bring himself to question what exactly had caused him to throw off the heaviness of the air between them with such sudden, delighted abandon; it was just how Yuzuru was and he didn’t mind it, in fact he found it reassuring, that there was someone willing to give him the time he needed to process something by allowing everything between them to be so open-ended, to flow in whatever direction it needed at any moment without any demand being placed on him to stem the tide. Instead of fighting the force of Yuzuru’s direction, Shoma simply tried to match him high for low, scrambling himself back together as much as he could and trying to keep up. A small, breathless laugh escaped him as Yuzuru glanced over his shoulder at him with a wild, complete smile that simply couldn’t be denied. There was a beam of sunlight breaking out from behind the blanket of cloud above, falling across the buildings ahead and creating a reflective glow that lit Yuzuru up in gold, bringing out the glitter of his dark eyes and making his whole outline seem to shine. To not want to follow him anywhere would’ve been impossible.

 

They were coming up towards the teaching building, and Shoma was aware that there were more people milling around there than had been on the walkways; Yuzuru bobbed and weaved through the gathering crowds, ignoring the many curious eyes which followed his every movement. He commanded the attention without even trying; he moved with purpose, and with a sort of innocent abandon that demanded notice be taken – everyone was looking, and he hadn’t just decided not to care. It was more than that. He had decided to bask in it.

 

‘You do realise everyone’s staring at us, right?’ Shoma asked, glancing over his shoulder as some disembodied voice called out some form of greeting to Yuzuru that he acknowledged with a vague nod before looking back at Shoma, face still radiant with happiness, like he hadn’t ever had a care in his life.

‘I know,’ he shrugged, pulling Shoma closer to him as they came up to the main entrance. ‘They always are though: I’m used to it.’ He flicked another glance at Shoma, smile dimming just a fraction. ‘At some point I just decided I had to live – I need to be myself, even if someone’s eyes are watching so they can make some comment on it later. There is nothing you can do to change the opinions of those who don’t like you for something you’re not – every action is wrong in their eyes. But if someone is judging you for something close to the truth, you can see it in yourself and acknowledge the problems of it to some extent.’

 

Shoma’s reaction was visceral. He let out a soft sigh of sympathy, overcome by the ache he felt at the brief flicker of sadness that had crossed Yuzuru’s face; even if the moment had disappeared in a heartbeat, Shoma had still seen the depth of the feeling in his eyes. He was reminded of the catch in Javier’s voice the other night as he’d tried to convey to Shoma the price Yuzuru paid for his outward projection of strength and power. He’d understood then, in an abstract way – but now the rest of him had caught up and it weighed on him. Shoma’s whole body ached for a moment – the sensation of Yuzuru’s electricity ebbing out like a late tide and being replaced by a low, warm rush of immense feeling that was all Shoma’s own. He squeezed Yuzuru’s hand tightly, and Yuzuru glanced back at him, finally coming to a halt to meet Shoma’s intent gaze. Shoma smiled slightly, eyes glittering conspiratorially, and he leant in just a little, deciding the best way to convey his understanding was through offering Yuzuru the resolute determination to be unbothered that seemed to be so very important to him.

‘I mean…I was going to tell you they’re probably just staring because you kind of gambol around here like a new-born giraffe – but…ok, whatever works for you I guess,’ he said, his tone solemn and serious even as his lips quirked up. Yuzuru’s face slowly split into a bewildering grin – his whole face crinkling up with it as he finally threw his head back in a laugh, his hair flying up around him and the sound echoing slightly in the vast entrance hall.

‘Shoma! You’re awful!’ he declared, still laughing even as he shoved Shoma lightly, and Shoma laughed too, pleased with himself, his grin entirely unapologetic.

‘Please. You know it’s true,’ he said pleasantly, shrugging, and Yuzuru let out another bubble of laughter, shaking his head and pulling a face.

‘I will show you: I am grace, when I want to be.’

‘That’s the weirdest threat I’ve ever heard.’

‘But you’re still afraid right now.’

‘I’m really not.’

‘Shut up and save your fearlessness for when you actually need it,’ Yuzuru said through a smile. ‘Now come on, hurry up or we’ll miss it.’

‘Miss what?’ Shoma asked, rolling his eyes slightly as Yuzuru set off again and hurrying to keep up with him. Yuzuru shot him a sidelong look, all mischief once more.

‘You’ll see.’ He shrugged, regarding Shoma with an impish smile. ‘There’s a reason I’m always early – I want to share it with you.’ Shoma looked away quickly, blushing slightly; there was weight to the blithe statement, coming from someone as artfully distant as Yuzuru, and Shoma was touched by that, overwhelmed and grateful.

 

Tracy’s lecture was being held in the largest of the lecture halls, up on the top floor, so the two of them had to wind their way through the building’s many staircases. Most people had chosen to spend the remaining time before lectures outside, and there was a strange, almost ethereal peace inside the building without so many bodies cluttering it up – it was quiet enough that the sound of the water feature in the entry hall echoed all the way up through the building, faint and pretty, making everything seem like a dream. Yuzuru led the way, a little calmer than before, seemingly sobered by the absence of quite so many eyes on him; Shoma could only really sense their two powers, and it was pleasant to realise the way they had settled into something that was almost just one, overarching presence at the edge of his consciousness. Yuzuru seemed to feel the shift too, glancing at Shoma with quieter eyes and a soft smile. ‘Power is about instinct sometimes; you have to let it settle in, but when it comes, it comes like breathing. If you let it,’ he said casually. Shoma frowned slightly.

‘What if it comes too easily? Too much?’ he asked. Yuzuru’s expression was kind.

‘I don’t think there’s any such thing,’ he said confidently. ‘You feel what you feel, right? There is a purpose to that. There is something very honest about a power which won’t allow itself to simply be called; you can’t misuse a power like that. What it lacks in direction it makes up for in compassion.’ He tilted his head, looking Shoma up and down for a moment, brow slightly furrowed. ‘We are different, but we are also the same, you know? We both choose to feel before we act; I pull and you reach, but the end result is still force. There is purpose in that too,’ he remarked, meeting Shoma’s eyes thoughtfully. ‘What you said before: I don’t think you’re a disaster. You’re not a disaster in my eyes. To me…I think you’re a miracle.’

‘But…isn’t everything a miracle? Essentially?’ Shoma murmured, uncertain. Yuzuru’s smile was tender and he placed his hands on Shoma’s shoulders, dipping his head so their faces were perfectly level.

‘True, perhaps. But that doesn’t cheapen the miracle that formed into you. It doesn’t take away the miracle it is that, of all the possibilities the universe had to throw together, of all the crazy chances, it came up with what you are; with what is inside of you, the way your power is shaped by your soul and your soul shaped by your power in kind. There is a magic in you that belongs to you and you only, Shoma. It is something incredible that is all yours to do what you like with. You have a part to play somewhere. When the right moment aligns itself, when another set of happenstances come up to meet you: you will shine brightest of all.’

‘And is that what we’re doing, you and me? Finding our parts? Waiting for our purpose so we can walk away again when it’s over?’ Shoma asked, some part of him saddened at the possibility there was nothing more to it. Yuzuru’s smile was achingly kind as he shook his head.

‘No. I don’t think so. Or at least…that’s not what it’s about for me. Maybe I just like listening to the sound of your sea in my ears, maybe there’s something more to it that I will never know. But for now? What I’m doing? I’m spending time with a friend. I hope you are too.’ Shoma bit at his lip, smiling shyly, and Yuzuru smiled back, small and relieved, before straightening abruptly and taking Shoma’s hand in his own. ‘We should go inside,’ he said gently, pulling on Shoma’s hand. ‘We’re just in time, actually.’ Shoma frowned but Yuzuru only smiled back at him cryptically and kept tugging him in the direction of an unassuming blue door, his whole being crackling excitedly.

 

As Shoma followed Yuzuru through the door and into the lecture hall, he quickly realised the it was no ordinary teaching space; the room was vast and high-ceilinged, bright and airy. The back wall was entirely glass, curving with the line of the building, giving a view of the Foundation’s blockish skyline and the pale line of the ocean meeting the horizon out beyond; the glass wasn’t coloured the way it was throughout the rest of the building, but there was a curious quality to it that somehow made the view seem painted and vaguely unreal, the colours bleeding a little at the edges. Above them the ceiling was also mostly glass; it possessed the same hazy quality as the windows, and was split into panels all the way up, forming a vaguely Art Deco design that cast squares of pale, sea-green light all over the room. Shoma stared up as a flock of white birds drifted past overhead; flecks and smudges of watercolour white, casting pretty shadows that danced over Shoma’s face in a way that almost tickled. His lips parted slightly in wonder. They had come in through the door to the side-aisle rather than the main doors, which opened at the top of a central staircase lit with tiny white lights all the way down. Where they stood it was easier to see the full sweep of the room’s curvature, to notice the faint details picked out all around in silvers and ocean blues; it felt like Shoma was standing at the top of a lighthouse, the sound of the ocean suddenly louder and the taste of salt creeping into the air.

 

‘Wow,’ Shoma let out in a soft undertone as he finally processed the view before him, and Yuzuru grinned back at him, teasing and knowing and clearly dying to say “I told you so”. Shoma pulled a face at him, huffing slightly. ‘Shut up,’ he muttered, smiling despite himself, and Yuzuru let out a small laugh.

‘This isn’t even the best part,’ he replied in a gentle half-whisper, inclining his head slightly in the direction of the steps and heading off down towards the seats on the end of the front row. Shoma followed without protest, eyes still staring around the vast room in wonder. ‘Tracy always lectures in here; even Brian doesn’t get a say, it’s always Tracy’s room,’ Yuzuru was explaining lightly, folding his jacket neatly and setting it down over the arm of a seat before glancing back at Shoma with a smile and nodding for him to take the seat beside him. ‘She was the one who gave him the idea to make the Foundation something magical, something to be looked at; that’s the idea that got him to where he is now, the one that started him off. This is his present back to her, I think. A thank you for what she’s helped him achieve.’

 

They both turned at the sound of the door opening again, and when they looked up they saw Tracy arriving, a kind smile on her face and a stack of papers in her arms.

‘Well, look who it is – my early bird,’ she said warmly, offering Yuzuru a fond smile. ‘Good morning, Yuzu,’ she added, coming down the steps towards them. ‘And if it isn’t our new superstar Shoma.’ She walked over to the desk at the front, setting down the stack of papers and folding her arms to look curiously between the two of them. ‘I hear I have you to thank for getting this one here to actually listen to Brian the other night,’ she said, coming closer. She arched an eyebrow at Yuzuru – who was almost blushing – before looking back at Shoma with a kind, vaguely assessing smile. ‘I’m impressed,’ she told him gently. ‘And very grateful too. I don’t know how you did it, but I hope it wasn’t a one-off. It takes a village to keep this one out of trouble,’ she added, eyes shining with a mixture of affection and despair as she regarded Yuzuru out of the corner of her eye. Yuzuru pulled a face and she laughed lightly, shaking her head at him. ‘Be gentle with him, Yuzu.’ She pointed a lightly warning finger towards him, her other hand going to her hip as she narrowed her eyes slightly. ‘He’s probably the best of all my Healers, and he has the heart to match. _Be gentle_.’ Shoma blinked in surprise, but Yuzuru simply nodded, his expression earnest, almost childlike and somewhat chagrined.

‘I know. I will,’ he said, flicking a glance at Shoma and offering him a secret smile. ‘But Shoma is strong. He’ll be ok.’ Tracy’s smile turned knowing as she looked from one of them to the other and nodded slowly.

‘You know what, Yuzu? I think you’re probably right.’ She took a step back. ‘You want to show him our little party trick?’ she offered then, turning. Yuzuru beamed and Tracy laughed, taking his expression as one of agreement and nodding. ‘Well, ok then: let’s go.’ She moved over to the desk again, reaching down to flick two switches on the side of it before standing back, flashing Shoma a small smile. And then the light began to shift.

 

Shoma watched in awe as every pane of glass in the room began to slowly change in colour, like liquid which bled into the scene beyond the windows until it was distorted – an artificial sunset overlaid itself on the skyline, brilliant oranges and reds and purples growing darker and darker, a midnight blue seeping in like ink, creeping upwards and into the ceiling’s glass bit by bit. As the darkness was about to engulf the space, lights began to appear exactly where they would in the Foundation’s skyline at night: yellow and amber squares in windows, pale constellations peering out from clouds in soft silvers and golds. Shoma felt Yuzuru shift close to him, leaning in.

‘Wow, right?’ he whispered, lightly teasing, his breath tickling Shoma’s ear. Shoma looked back over at him, a slow smile curving his lips; he paused a moment, taking in the way Yuzuru’s face had shifted seamlessly from childlike wonder to an altogether more sublime sort of happiness. He let out a small, overwhelmed little laugh, not sure what he wanted to look at more, and a part of him was sure Yuzuru knew it.

‘Yeah,’ he breathed out slowly. ‘I think “wow” probably covers it.’ Yuzuru met his eyes and Shoma shrugged, his smile almost shy. ‘You can say “I told you so” now,’ he added with a roll of his eyes, and Yuzuru laughed, letting out a playfully considering hum.

‘I’ll let you off, just this once,’ he replied, scrunching up his face in that charming, conspiratorial way of his that made Shoma feel like maybe no one else but him was allowed to know this particular side of the boy who was supposed to save the world.

 

It hadn’t taken long for more people to begin to filter in after that, a trickle of conversation beginning to bubble up as people started settling into the seats around them. Shoma noticed that no one came to sit beside Yuzuru, even those who called out greetings to him; even Javier chose to sit elsewhere, glancing briefly over at Yuzuru with an arched eyebrow before settling on the opposite end of the row with a group of people Shoma didn’t recognise. Satoko appeared at Shoma’s shoulder with seconds to spare before their lecture was supposed to begin, handing him his drink with a knowing smile before disappearing quickly to sit somewhere in the shadows at the back, seemingly determined not to intrude. It seemed no one wanted to interrupt whatever it was they saw in the way Yuzuru and Shoma were huddled together, Shoma’s head on his arms as he looked up at Yuzuru talking a mile a minute, the two of them leaning in and shifting back with instinctive ease, like there were forces of gravity at play between them.

 

After a few minutes, Shoma sat up to sip at his drink, regarding Yuzuru carefully as he played with the straw, taking a moment to study him and making no attempt to hide it. ‘What?’ Yuzuru laughed, breaking off in the middle of his sentence, and Shoma shrugged, expression vaguely mischievous.

‘Nothing. Just trying to figure out how you can be a social butterfly and a total recluse at the same time.’ Yuzuru let out another laugh.

‘You want to learn?’ he teased and Shoma suppressed a smile, wrinkling his nose in a show of distaste.

‘Definitely not. Give me total recluse all day every day. _Please_.’ Yuzuru flicked his arm and Shoma yelped softly. ‘Rude,’ he declared. ‘You’re a health hazard, you know that? I’m covered in bruises since I met you.’ Yuzuru beamed at him unapologetically.

‘You’re pure introvert, right?’ he stated, without judgement. Shoma considered it for a beat.

‘Pretty much, yeah,’ he conceded, glancing down into his drink. ‘It’s not as if I don’t like being around people, but it’s just…’ He fiddled with the straw self-consciously ‘I need the time to recharge sometimes is all: people take energy for me, energy I don’t always have just there ready for them. People just…take work,’ he said, looking over at Yuzuru cautiously. ‘Most people do, anyway.’ He shrugged. ‘You seem to be the exception to the rule, I guess,’ he added in a murmur. Yuzuru’s smile was sweet and kind and he tipped his head slightly, pursing his lips.

‘I…do that,’ he said slowly, half-joke and half-admission, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh at the somewhat shy way he dipped his gaze.

‘You ever met a record you didn’t want to break?’ he joked and Yuzuru pulled a face at him.

‘Is it bad if I say no?’ he asked, laughing when Shoma kicked him beneath the desk. ‘Now who’s the health hazard?!’

‘Definitely still you: you’re so _pointy_.’ Shoma pushed at Yuzuru’s bony elbow and wrinkled his nose for emphasis, and Yuzuru laughed again, full-bodied and genuine, falling against Shoma’s side. His laughter vibrated against Shoma, ticking him lightly, and Shoma felt stupidly proud of himself.

 

Shoma wasn’t the most dedicated student, but he always got by; he wasn’t a fastidious note-taker and he had a tendency to lose handouts from classes, but what he lacked in organisation he made up for in attention to detail, and he listened well enough in lectures to get reasonable grades, even if he had been known to cut it fine with the odd deadline. He was grateful, however, that Tracy made it so easy to be interested in what she had to say; she had a way of delivering information that didn’t feel like a lecture, her enthusiasm and warmth making it seem more like a conversation, and there was an informal atmosphere to the way she did things, leaning casually against her desk and being careful to make eye contact, giving out little asides here and there that made everyone laugh. The topic was interesting enough, and Shoma could understand the significance of the basic concept: individual powers could perhaps be used in less rigid ways, and by combining powers and emotions it could maybe even be possible to create new powers entirely, or at the very least stronger ones. What interested him the most was the way Tracy spoke about combining their powers with the untapped power of memories, hopes and wishes – it was something he’d never really considered before, that there was something inherently magical in these things, but it was an idea he liked. It made sense to him, that there was power in a fond memory, or a desire that needed to be worked towards – they were things which could provoke intense feeling, could motivate and devastate, could heal and inspire. Emotions could generate energy, and energy could transform power.

 

‘…If memories weren’t important in all this, why is it that they are one of the first things which disappear without the colours? If emotions didn’t hold a certain power of their own, why else would it be that they become stifled the same way our powers do for those living in a Grey Zone? Individuality, creative thinking – it is all shaped through colours and memories and feelings, unique to each one of us regardless of power classification. No two Healers are the same, no two Warriors or Artists. What we put out there is shaped by what we have lived through – that is a magic of its own. What we put out there collectively? It would be shaped by every memory, every feeling, every experience on the spectrum. It would be a world all of its own, right? We already know we can’t heal the colour back into a Grey Zone with individuals’ powers, but we have yet to try to make the very fabric of a Grey Zone _remember_ its colours, to force such a great volume of power and emotion back into that space that it drew something out. Are we using our powers in the right ways to achieve the level of power that that would require? Perhaps not.’ Tracy looked around at all of them with shining eyes. ‘These are just possibilities, just ideas that we have to put out there, of course. But, using powers in a linear fashion hasn’t worked, we haven’t got the results we want, so we need to start widening the scope. So, let’s go into some similarities we can find that run through powers across classifications – the most important one being? That word again! _Emotions_ …’

 

As time went on, Shoma felt his mind beginning to wander, and his gaze drifted over to the person sitting next to him, furiously scribbling down notes in tiny, scratchy handwriting; there was a look of concentration on Yuzuru’s face as he wrote, and whenever he took a pause from his notes he clicked agitatedly at his pen, as though he felt he needed to be doing something all the time. His body was a restless thing and so was his mind – Shoma could see it in his eyes, the energy that desperately needed somewhere to go. Shoma had always thought of himself as a driven person, but he tended to conserve his energy so that he had enough in reserve when he most needed it; that Yuzuru seemed to have no such regard for self-perseveration was strangely terrifying to Shoma, a sort of terror he had never really felt before and couldn’t exactly pin down. He was reminded once again of the worry in Javier’s eyes the other night – it seemed a kinder warning now, somehow. An option to get out whilst he still could, perhaps. But Shoma wasn’t so sure he would’ve taken the option even if he’d realised it was there; Yuzuru was dizzying and pervasive, but he was also delicate, breakable – the humanity in him was as powerful as his magic, and Shoma was drawn to it the way he always had been drawn to those whose souls longed for healing. And it wasn’t as if he couldn’t understand the place Yuzuru’s restlessness came from. Yuzuru’s nature was to run relentlessly on behalf of those who couldn’t run themselves, Shoma’s nature was to stop and help those who’d fallen get back to their feet. The end desire was the same, though. To help. To be a force for good. Yuzuru had been right: they were different, but somehow, they were also the same.

 

There was something hypnotic about watching Yuzuru furiously scribble away, and Shoma let his head loll, resting it back on his folded arms. His eyelids were drooping a little, his cheek squashed against his forearms as he stifled a yawn; he kept watching Yuzuru from under heavy lids, his long eyelashes tickling gently against his skin as he tried to blink back the sudden weighty sleepiness that had settled over him. It wasn’t exhaustion – in fact, if Shoma had to put a label on it, he would’ve gone with peace. He was content, watching the way Yuzuru’s long fingers played with his pen, turning it over, clicking it twice, turning it again before stopping to scribble some note into the margin of his page. His notes seemed to have notes – annotations in different colours fitted in between the lines and squashed up against the page’s edges. Shoma watched the motion, letting the sound of Tracy’s voice wash over him; a part of him was still listening, but another part of him was lost in the rhythm of Yuzuru’s drums again. Yuzuru’s hair had fallen forward as he’d bent over to write, revealing the sweet softness that was usually so well hidden in his determined face; he bobbed slightly as Tracy talked, as though agreeing with each point she was making, and a tiny frown of concentration furrowed his brow. It was a moment of motion and music within an otherwise ordinary day – the exact sort of magic Tracy was urging them to seek out, something Shoma wanted to remember.

 

Yuzuru glanced up after a while, catching Shoma’s eye immediately; his face transformed as he met Shoma’s gaze, a genuine smile blossoming there, his eyes coming alive with light. He leant in, something roguish in his expression as he reached across, teasing lightly at the corner of Shoma’s notebook where it poked out from under his arms. He pulled and wiggled at it until it was free, plucking it up from Shoma’s desk and casting his eyes across the near-blank, partially doodled-on page. Shoma blushed a little as Yuzuru widened his eyes at him mischievously, letting out a little gasp of faux-intrigue.

‘Ah, very helpful notes,’ he whispered, laughter in his voice as he tapped his finger along the collection of scribbled pictures Shoma’s page had descended into. ‘I especially like the puppy – cute.’ He giggled, soft and childish, setting the notebook back down and pretending to glare warningly at Shoma. ‘Incredibly unhelpful to learning, but cute,’ he nodded sagely, sliding the notebook back towards him. Shoma felt the heat from his face starting to spread down his neck and he squirmed slightly, pulling a face at Yuzuru in the hopes of calming his sudden impish mood.

‘Shut up; we can’t all be nerds, Yuzuru,’ he mumbled. ‘I’m better at practical learning anyway,’ he added somewhat defensively, and Yuzuru let out a bright, surprisingly loud laugh.

‘I can see that,’ he replied, grinning. Shoma frowned at him in confusion.

‘Huh?’ he let out, lifting his head slightly. It was then that Shoma realised how quiet the room had suddenly gone, and he sat up, looking around them in bewilderment.

 

The entire room was in suspended animation but for Yuzuru and Shoma: Tracy was caught in mid-sentence, hands out in front of her in some enthusiastic gesture, Javier was leaning in to listen to something the girl behind him was whispering by his ear, the gaggle of Russians in the row across from them were caught in a moment of not-so-stealthy note-passing, and all the way in the back row it was just possible to make out Satoko, hunched over her notes, a look of concentration etched into her face. ‘Oh,’ Shoma managed, small and shy, looking back at Yuzuru with a sheepish wince. ‘Yeah, my power does that sometimes,’ he admitted, looking down with a soft groan. ‘It just sort of…happens, and I can’t really control it. It does what it thinks I need and doesn’t really give me a chance to think about it first.’ He looked cautiously back at Yuzuru, and he was rewarded with a kind smile that warmed Shoma to his core, coming over his whole being like balm.

‘Well, I’m honoured, at least – to be the exception to your power’s need for peace and quiet is something special, right?’ Yuzuru said lightly, and Shoma let out a small laugh, flicking his hair out of his face and turning his eyes up to the ceiling with a little whine of embarrassment.

‘Urgh, you’re such a pain,’ Shoma said, scrunching up his face, and Yuzuru laughed at him, gentle rather than cruel.

‘I’m not the one who froze a whole lecture hall, Shoma. Next time freeze me too if I’m bothering you so much,’ he pointed out, shrugging. ‘I mean…I’m impressed, but…also kind of entertained too. You really wanted a time out, huh?’ Shoma huffed.

‘Ok, so…I’m sure I shouldn’t be telling you this? But this isn’t even the first time this has happened. I wouldn’t have made it through high school alive if this didn’t happen sometimes.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘No one else in my school had powers, so I got away with so much stuff: my teachers just thought the clocks in the school were malfunctioning or whatever. My brother was the only person I ever told about it.’

‘And you made no effort to stop it?!’

‘I mean…at first. But after a while I just figured…why not make the most of it and just sleep or game or catch up on homework or something, you know?’

‘Shoma!’ Yuzuru laughed, bubbling and absurd. ‘Why didn’t you just unfreeze everything?’ he asked. Shoma looked down, tipping his head from one side to another awkwardly.

‘Maybe I could have done, if I’d really tried but…I’ve never exactly had that much control over my power, you know? I usually just…let it play out rather than risking making an even bigger mess.’

 

When he chanced a glance up he saw Yuzuru’s expression had softened; it should have made him feel pitied, to have someone of Yuzuru’s power regard him in that way. But he knew that Yuzuru wasn’t pitying him, that that expression didn’t come from a place of power but instead from a place of genuine care. He was un-puzzling him again. He was looking at Shoma the way Shoma had been looking at him all day – it seemed a fair trade.

‘That’s why you hold yourself in so much, right?’ Yuzuru said, tipping his head in thought. Shoma nodded slightly.

‘Mostly,’ he sighed. ‘But it takes work sometimes, to constantly be going from on to off and back again. There’ve been times I didn’t think there’d be enough sleep in the world to make me feel up to facing another day around people again.’ Yuzuru nodded, slow and patient, offering Shoma another quiet smile.

‘You want me to help you out before someone comes in here and thinks we’re up to no good?’ he suggested. Shoma laughed softly.

‘Please?’ Yuzuru grinned at him.

‘Sure,’ he said with a sharp nod, flicking a glance around the space and then straightening slightly in his seat, lifting his hand up in front of his face. He cast a sidelong glance at Shoma, offering him a sly, knowing smile, and then he clicked his fingers. Once, short and precise. And, just like that, time came rushing back in. Shoma looked at Yuzuru, matching his playful, secretive smile with one of his own, and Yuzuru offered him a wink, lifting a finger to his lips. ‘Our secret,’ he whispered, before turning quickly back to his notes just as Tracy cast a suspicious glance their way.

 

Shoma had slipped away at lunchtime with the vaguest of smiles in Yuzuru’s direction; Yuzuru’s many friends were already circling, and he seemed instinctively aware that Shoma simply wasn’t up to blocking out the strength of their energy for an afternoon, giving Shoma a soft smile to send him on his way before turning to pack his bag. As Shoma slid out from his seat, he heard Yuzuru yelling at the top of his lungs over towards where Javier was and he laughed to himself, rolling his eyes slightly at Yuzuru’s constant drama. Satoko had been waiting for Shoma by the doors, and he had let her hook her arm through his and steer him determinedly through the crowds, grateful that she didn’t bombard him with questions. He could tell she was as curious as anyone else as to why Yuzuru had been so keen to spend his morning lecture with Shoma, but she seemed to sense that it was something Shoma wasn’t ready to share and, strongminded and steady as she was, she was too kind to force the issue.

 

Keiji, however, had no such qualms – when they arrived at the restaurant designated for that day’s Team Japan meal, he pulled Shoma down half onto his lap and shook him slightly, making Shoma wince.

‘You didn’t bring your new best friend Yuzu with you?’ he asked Shoma brightly.

‘Yeah, Shoma, you scare him off already?’ Kanako joined in, voice high and happy and teasing. Shoma pulled a face at her and elbowed Keiji sharply in the ribs, though he made no attempt to get up from where he was balanced precariously on his knee.

‘Urgh, why does it have to be such a big deal? Tracy told him about me, that’s all.’

‘Aw, Shoma that’s so boring!’ Wakaba protested.

‘Depends what she told him,’ Satoko put in softly, her smile devilish and bright, and Shoma shot her a half-hearted glare.

‘Shoma’s her new favourite,’ Kanako said, glancing away and beckoning more people over to their table. ‘He’s a pretty good Healer – I think she’s jealous of Mihoko, honestly. Maybe Yuzu’s worried she wants to trade him.’

‘Pretty good?’ Shoma wrinkled his nose. ‘Don’t you think it would take more than “pretty good” for anyone to want to ditch Yuzuru?’

‘So…what you’re saying is you think highly of yourself, huh?’ Wakaba teased. Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘I don’t think that’s what I meant, actually,’ he grumbled.

‘Maybe not, but I do know this: it would take more than “pretty good” to get Yuzu’s attention. Don’t get me wrong: he’ll befriend anyone, power or not. But if he wants to start sharing learning time with you…’ Keiji shrugged. ‘I’m just putting it out there, Shoma. Maybe you shouldn’t run yourself down so much,’ he said.

‘Yeah: that’s what you have us for!’ Kanako beamed, laughing shamelessly when Shoma threw a balled-up napkin at her in reply.

 

Somehow, Shoma had managed to half-convince himself he had seen the last of Yuzuru for the day – to trick himself into thinking he wasn’t waiting for him to appear around every corner with a laugh and some cryptic remark. He told himself he hadn’t meant to go looking: that he couldn’t sleep because he missed home, that he’d snuck out of his room and into the cool sea-salt-heavy night because he needed space to breathe. It was a lie. He didn’t want to dwell on the fact that, in just a few days, he’d become addicted to the company of a person who, in many ways, was only ever half-there. So he told himself it was a coincidence that he made it to the walkway at the exact moment Yuzuru appeared out of the courtyard shadows. He told himself he’d been heading for the courtyard anyway as he slowly made his way down the stairs. He told himself he’d been invited when he retraced Yuzuru’s path between the pools and flowerbeds and came to a halt at the half-hidden gate.

 

There was no pretending to be done, however, when he pushed at the gate with tentative fingers and it creaked softly open in an instant. He’d run out of excuses. So he took Yuzuru’s advice: he made a choice.

 

It was the start of a pattern. A routine. Shoma would meet his friends in the morning, attend sessions and appointments and meetings, pretend Yuzuru’s eyes weren’t boring a hole in the back of his head and then sneak off to his room to nap and game and pass empty time alone, recharging, before midnight rolled around again.

 

He began following Yuzuru further and further, exploring more and more of the strange underground network of maintenance tunnels that existed beneath the Foundation. The space had the air of something unfinished; there were doors Shoma never tried, corridors that seemed to lead to nowhere and rooms with walls carved out of the very rock of the cliff they were built into. The sound of metal and turning cogs echoed and hummed through the floor, vibrating through Shoma’s bones, rhythmic and repetitive like the beating of a manmade heart. It was the very rhythm of the Foundation, and Shoma had no idea what purpose Yuzuru could have there, even as he followed him deeper and deeper into the maze.

 

He always hung back enough to avoid being caught – he didn’t need to follow the sound of Yuzuru’s footsteps or the ghost of his outline in the shadows to know where he’d been, Shoma could just follow the feeling of him. A pulse that beat louder in Shoma’s ears even than the mechanical pulse of the Foundation’s underground world. He tried not to think, not to feel too much besides Yuzuru’s dancing energy – not to allow anything the chance to talk him out of the strange gamble he was taking. Because if this wasn’t an invitation, then he was crossing a line he’d been determined to respect. But then, if it wasn’t an invitation, he wasn’t sure why Yuzuru kept smiling at him the way he did, kept going out of his way to say “Hi” as they passed each other after sessions, sitting beside him in the courtyard in the evenings to tell him trivia about his day and casting glittery-eyed looks his way whenever he caught him off guard. Of course, Shoma wasn’t sure why Yuzuru did anything, not really. No one was. He was a walking game: a dare, a question the world kept trying and failing to answer. Maybe Shoma was kidding himself by imagining for even a moment he might have discovered something in him that the many eyes which always watched him had all managed to miss. And yet, he was the only one down here, wasn’t he? And he wasn’t only relying on what he saw – he had what he felt as well.

 

By Saturday night Shoma knew he had followed Yuzuru as far as was possible without giving himself away: another dark gate that seemed to lead into nothing but cliff-rock right at the end of the furthest passageway. He’d stopped at it for a long time, staring down into the semi-darkness beyond, holding his breath. When he closed his eyes he could feel the prickle of lightning dance across his skin, could hear the drums and thunder, could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. And it was too much. He reached its edges and flinched back before it could feel him there and stretch back. He was on the verge of crossing one barrier more than he was entirely sure he should – it was his last chance to get out and maybe shake off the pull of Yuzuru’s secrets, to avoid the knowingness in his eyes and the sense of his own power unravelling inside him every time Yuzuru’s power crept closer.

 

Shoma practically ran all the way back to his room, collapsing breathlessly into bed and staring up at the ceiling with blank, exhausted eyes; he could see spots on the edges of his vision, blurring and spinning the room around him. Yuzuru’s power had reached out and found him anyway, and it practically buzzed in the air around him. The lightning hadn’t receded until he’d finally fallen asleep sometime in the early hours, when the sky was dusty pinks and greys and his limbs were too heavy for him to bother getting up and closing the blinds. He didn’t wake up until Sunday afternoon when the air in his room was stuffy, his throat was dry and the sound of the messages accumulating on his phone finally pierced the fog of his brain. For a few minutes he lay there, scratchy-throated and confused, trying and failing to piece it all back together in his mind. He’d almost managed to convince himself it had been one long, complicated dream before he dared push himself up to face the day.

 

By the time he’d forced himself back into the world, it seemed as though almost everyone at the Foundation was out enjoying their day off – he squinted against the brightness of the sun and wished there was a breeze to break the stifling atmosphere. He’d never been a fan of the outdoors, had never understood why people loved the heat of summer so much; the air was all sound and baked grass and the only upshot Shoma could find to it was that it seemed to have made the constant hum of power that he was growing far too used to on Foundation grounds that tiny bit quieter, subdued by the stillness of the cloudless afternoon. The courtyard was practically full, people sheltering beneath the shade of trees and dipping hands into the cool water of the pools; Shoma recognised a few faces here and there, nodding politely at those who offered him smiles or waves and hoping he didn’t seem too rude as he kept on walking regardless. The Team Japan group chat which he had reluctantly allowed himself to be added to at some point during his first week was full of messages demanding his presence elsewhere, out in the open space behind the Foundation’s main buildings where they were enjoying a picnic in the little breeze that came in off the ocean from over the cliff’s edge. Shoma had to admit the group were annoyingly good company and he felt obliged to follow orders and meet them, even if it meant putting up with them teasing him for being late yet again.

 

There were blankets laid out all around the quiet, grassy area which most people referred to as the playing field; groups were scattered all around the edges of the space, lazing and laughing together, but the atmosphere was strangely peaceful, the low murmur of conversation being carried off on the gentle whip of the sea breeze. It occurred to Shoma it was probably a good day for confessing secrets in friends’ ears – the air out near the cliff was dancing just enough to carry the words entirely out to sea, never needing to be dealt with again. What had seemed like a stale afternoon within the clustering of the Foundation buildings was unexpectedly light and pleasant out by the cliff; Shoma vowed never to admit it to his brother, who had tried to convince him of the joys of the seaside during summer holidays in the past and had always been met with grim refusal.

 

‘Shoma! Please tell me you’re not late because you were still sleeping!’ a loud voice suddenly whined in Shoma’s ear as an enthusiastic arm was thrown over his shoulders, and Shoma let out a soft huff of breath from the force of it, glaring up at the owner of the voice with half-hearted irritation.

‘It’s Sunday, why can’t I sleep late on a Sunday?’ he grumbled, turning his head just as Nobu let out a loud sound of disapproval that made Shoma wince, and began to steer him over towards the rest of the group.

‘This is ridiculous! What are we going to do with you?’ Nobu demanded, his voice at such a volume that several of the others looked up in unison, flashing amused smiles their way.

‘Leave me alone?’ Shoma suggested hopefully.

‘Never!’ Kanako declared from where she was lying, head in Mao’s lap, a magazine discarded on her stomach.

‘Here, this will make you love us again,’ Keiji put in, reaching into an ice box beside him and tossing Shoma a can of coke.

‘See, that’s how you greet someone – instead of damaging their eardrums for life, like _some people_ ,’ Shoma said with feeling, opening the coke and giving Nobu a playful shove.

‘So rude to your elders,’ Nobu pouted exaggeratedly and Shoma shot him a vaguely amused look, flopping down next to Keiji.

‘I could kill you and get away with it, you know,’ he remarked.

‘Shoma is about 3% evil,’ Wakaba nodded sagely, flashing him a pretty smile. ‘Right, Shoma?’

‘Only 3%, hey? This has gone down since I last checked,’ Kanako giggled.

‘We’re keeping statistics on this now?’ Daisuke frowned, reaching across Satoko to grab some popcorn from an open packet on the blanket between them all.

‘We need to keep an eye on Shoma – who knows what he will do otherwise,’ Wakaba said.

‘Yeah – he might sleep in even later than two in the afternoon,’ Satoko nodded, her voice solemn but her eyes twinkling with mischief. Shoma pulled a face at her.

‘I was awake before two,’ he complained. ‘I think I was anyway…I rolled over and went back to sleep again, but I was awake at some point. That counts.’ He huffed slightly, attempting to flick his hair out of his eyes. ‘I don’t see why it even matters; what exactly is so special about being outdoors right now? It’s too warm.’

‘Shoma!’ the others chorused and Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Stop saying my name like that,’ he said through a laugh.

‘You’re a nightmare, you know that?’ Mao said fondly. Shoma shot her a small smile.

‘Yeah, because you all keep telling me,’ he replied. ‘Now give me food, please – and definitely not whatever Satton’s eating.’

‘It’s called salad, Shoma – it’s good for you,’ Satoko teased, leaning across to wave a forkful of green in his face and laughing when Shoma gave her a dry death-stare in return. ‘Definitely a nightmare,’ she said, sharing a look with Mao.

 

‘Here, I’m sure there must be _something_ in here you’ll like,’ Keiji sighed, passing over a hamper of food and shaking his head. ‘I’ve met five-year-olds with better eating habits than you,’ he smiled. Shoma elbowed him lightly and took the offered hamper, digging inside until he found a carton of something that smelt reassuringly of meat and light spices.

‘Save some for the others; I told everyone they should come today,’ Wakaba called over to him, and Shoma shot her an enquiring look, mouth full as he wiped away a dash of sauce from his lips. ‘I wanted to get us all together so we can make plans. There are more people coming next week: _all_ from Japan,’ she elaborated. ‘Three of them: one from each power classification. Brian says they came recommended from some of the people he works with back home, but he didn’t really know much else about them.’

‘More new people so soon? What, are we building an army now?’ Mao frowned.

‘Actually, I think we might be,’ Daisuke muttered, mostly to himself.

‘Aw, Shoma: you won’t be the baby of the group any more,’ Kanako let out with an impish pout. Shoma narrowed his eyes at her.

‘You know I’m not even the youngest person sitting on this blanket right now, right?’ he pointed out.

‘Age is just a number, Shoma,’ Kanako shrugged.

‘Besides, until you eat your greens and stop threatening to kill us? You’re always going to be the baby of the group,’ Nobu informed him with a bright grin.

‘That makes no sense,’ Shoma shot back, his face scrunching up, and Keiji laughed.

‘Really? So…this younger brother of yours who you’re always complaining about and messaging sly comments to about us when you think we’re not looking: does he not have annoying habits?’ he asked.

‘Of course he does: he’s my younger brother.’

‘And does he often threaten to kill you?’ Kanako asked brightly. Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Sometimes.’ The others stared him down and he groaned. ‘Every day,’ he conceded with a sigh.

‘My point exactly,’ Nobu laughed, slightly too loud, and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.

‘I have no idea why I’m friends with any of you,’ he muttered, going back to his food to a chorus of teases and laughs. He fought off a smile and lost, and Keiji shook him back and forth jokingly until he glared at him.

 

As the group began to bicker amongst themselves around him, Shoma took a moment to relax and let his still half-asleep brain catch up with the rest of him. For the first time he allowed his mind to drift back to the previous night – to the thumping of distant metal and the rough feeling of cliff rock beneath his fingers, to the sound of Yuzuru’s footsteps on the stairs and the clank of the gate behind him as he’d followed him down deeper and deeper into the world below the Foundation where only the two of them ever seemed to go. He still didn’t know what exactly it was he felt about his decision to go beyond the gate – he’d taken an invitation he was only half-sure was even there, but sometimes he was convinced Yuzuru was practically holding his breath in his presence, waiting for him to give in and take the dare he was presenting for him. _Sometimes it has to come down to heart_. The problem was Shoma knew exactly what he wanted in his heart: the longing to be known surprised him, because it was something he had never felt in his life before so strongly and it was frightening to think he might be chasing something that would never be his to have. Yuzuru had taken a leap of faith in trusting him, though – it hardly seemed fair for Shoma to stay on solid ground.

 

‘Did you save anything for me or did you people eat everything already?’ a voice cut across the chatter, and a chorus of surprised greetings and exclamations rose up in response. Shoma blinked, jumping slightly at the sudden racket, and he squinted up at the silhouette which had spoken. The lean, waiflike structure of Yuzuru Hanyu was unmistakable; outlined in brilliant sunlight and smiling impishly as he leaned over to steal a strawberry from a tub beside Nobu, it was almost as though Shoma had somehow summoned him up by force of will.

‘You don’t respond to the group chat, you don’t get food, Hanyu,’ Keiji declared, throwing a scrunched up wrapper in Yuzuru’s direction, and Yuzuru laughed at him, ducking out of the way and pulling a face, his cheek bulging with the strawberry as he tried to laugh around it.

‘My other favourite bratty baby brother!’ Nobu beamed as Yuzuru half-threw himself down beside him. ‘Say something obnoxious so I can tell you off,’ he added. Yuzuru laughed again, more loudly this time, and Nobu reached out in an attempt to cuff him round the back of the head that Yuzuru artfully ducked away from. ‘Play with me, Yuzu! Come on!’ Nobu whined and Yuzuru pulled a face at him, nose scrunched and eyes two ridiculously happy crescents.

‘Leave me alone – who is supposed to be the brat here?’ he shot back, smacking Nobu’s arm lightly.

‘Always you, my friend,’ Nobu beamed, delighted, elbowing Yuzuru in the ribs with glee. Yuzuru took it without objection, smiling fondly across at Nobu with the smallest shake of his head.

 

‘How come you’re gracing us with your presence, huh?’ Kanako demanded, lifting her head in order to squint over at Yuzuru, who rolled his eyes at her.

‘Shut up, Kana, you never invite me – the group chat doesn’t count.’

‘You’re always busy!’ Kanako laughed.

‘You don’t know that,’ Yuzuru countered, pulling a face. ‘You assume. And then you invite me out to something late and I don’t want to go.’

‘Why not? You want me to believe you’re just sleeping?’ Kanako said pointedly. Yuzuru shrugged, tipping his head back and forth in a noncommittal gesture of disapproval and Kanako stuck her tongue out at him.

‘You and Shoma are as bad as each other,’ Keiji put in, and Shoma started slightly, his gaze instinctively darting up and meeting Yuzuru’s. ‘Where do you both disappear to all the time, hey?’ Shoma swallowed, his throat dry; guilt and panic welled up inside him, but Yuzuru seemed unfazed as ever, an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes dark and intent on Shoma’s startled face. Then his lips curved up slightly.

‘Shoma is a night owl, right?’ he said, tilting his head. ‘He’s probably busy catching up on all the work he didn’t do during the day: I’ve seen his lecture notes, he’s a terrible student.’ His smile was teasing and kind at the same time, and Shoma let out a high laugh, wrinkling his nose.

‘Oh, Shoma he is telling all your secrets,’ Nobu gasped theatrically.

‘Please, like it’s a secret I’d rather sleep than take notes,’ Shoma replied, rolling his eyes. ‘I could tell you his secret though,’ he added, looking at Yuzuru with mischief in his smile, pleased by the way Yuzuru looked back at him in expectant challenge. ‘He’s no model student – his handwriting is impenetrable and he hands half his schoolwork in late.’

‘Wow, Shoma really has no respect for his elders today,’ Wakaba laughed and Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘How am I his elder? There’s only three years between us,’ he frowned.

‘Yeah, but you’ve been here forever and you’re friends with all the old guys. Plus, you’re kind of a _big deal_ so…’ Kanako laughed and Yuzuru shot her a small glare.

‘I don’t like you,’ he told her and she beamed back at him, blowing him a kiss.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she half-sang.

‘You kind of like everybody, Yuzu,’ Daisuke pointed out, not unkindly. Yuzuru huffed.

‘This is why I don’t come sit with you guys,’ he joked, eyes sparkling, then he glanced at Shoma again. ‘Shoma, how do you put up with them?’

‘I have the patience of saint?’ Shoma suggested, mouth full. Satoko rolled her eyes.

‘No, we just bribe him with food,’ she said with a sly smile. Yuzuru laughed, nodding thoughtfully.

‘Now I see the way to Shoma’s heart,’ he remarked with a shrug. ‘No wonder he has so many friends here already: he is making sure he will never go hungry.’ Shoma pulled a face.

‘Well, it’s working, isn’t it?’ he shot back, gesturing to the spread around them. Yuzuru smiled.

‘I feel so treasured as a friend right now,’ Nobu said, touching a melodramatic hand to his chest and pretending to brush a tear from his eye.

‘Shut up,’ Yuzuru and Shoma said in unison, before glancing at each other and bursting out laughing. Yuzuru gave Nobu a shove for good measure, shaking his head.

 

The others drifted back into conversation, and Wakaba eagerly started in on something to do with a sleepover she was planning with some of the other girls in an attempt to persuade a reluctant Satoko to help her with some ridiculous scheme. Shoma stopped paying attention, watching instead as Yuzuru settled himself in amongst the group with ease, like he’d been there all along. Wherever he went, it seemed, a space was made for him – he could fall into any group at the Foundation and look at home there. But with the rest of Team Japan he seemed more free; seemed comfortable enough to actually act his age, to say the first thing that came into his head rather than trying to judge what might sound better. He was almost unfiltered. Almost at ease. Almost the person Shoma saw in him when no one else was around. Shoma took a breath, closing his eyes for just a moment; he reached out, tentatively, and smiled slightly when he felt the lightning reaching back. When he opened his eyes again Yuzuru was looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up in enquiry and his eyes full of his usual heady mix of amusement and challenge. Shoma blushed and quickly looked away.

 

‘Hey, Yuzu,’ a voice called out over the hazy quiet, and their whole group turned and looked up to see Javier crossing the grass towards them. ‘You hiding from me or what?’ he asked.

‘Hiding? This one is so loud I don’t see how you could ever lose him,’ Kanako said with a giggle. Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at her.

‘Like you’re so well behaved.’

‘I can do what I like, I don’t have a reputation to uphold,’ Kanako shrugged. From anyone else it would’ve been a cruel joke to make, but there was no malice anywhere in her entire being, and Yuzuru simply rolled his eyes.

‘What do you want, Javi?’ he asked.

‘Glad you’re in such a good mood today,’ Javier laughed, sitting himself down next to Shoma, making him jump slightly as he threw an arm around his shoulders. ‘Yuzu is sulking because he doesn’t want to play football with me, even though he lost the coin toss, making it my choice for what we do, no protests allowed,’ he told Shoma in a stage-whisper. Yuzuru threw a strawberry at him and Javier caught it effortlessly, his eyes dancing with glee. ‘You can always sit it out if you don’t think you can win, Yuzu,’ he said, voice dripping with feigned sweetness, and the group as a whole seemed to instinctively side with him immediately, letting out coos and gasps and teases, Nobu poking Yuzuru in his side until he squirmed.

‘You can’t bully me into playing with you,’ Yuzuru pouted, and Javier shrugged blithely.

‘Maybe not, but that’s what I have Team Japan for,’ he grinned, casting his eyes around the group. ‘Well, half of them anyway – where are the others?’

‘I’m pretty sure I could get them down here in a heartbeat if there’s a chance you’re going to show Yuzu what it’s like to lose,’ Kanako said, sitting up and resting her chin on her hand, smiling at Yuzuru with insincere sympathy. ‘Football is so not your game.’

‘Should’ve stayed in your anonymous void like you usually do on Sundays,’ Keiji chuckled. Yuzuru pulled a face at him.

‘Stop making me sound so weird.’

‘But you are so weird – you make it too easy!’ Nobu grinned. ‘Come on, I’ll make this better: I’ll be on your team!’

‘No! You’re hopeless! You fall over your own feet!’

‘Too late, I’m yours now. Javi gets next pick,’ Nobu beamed and Yuzuru let out a groan, covering his face with his hands.

‘How did you just manage to make this ten times worse?!’

 

Javier rubbed his hands together, impish delight dancing in his eyes, and he looked at Shoma wickedly. Shoma looked back at him with wide, confused eyes, feeling distinctly unsettled, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.

‘What?’ he asked nervously, and Javier put his arm back around his shoulders, looking over at Yuzuru.

‘Ok, Yuzu: I call Shoma.’ He squeezed Shoma’s shoulders tight, shaking him a little, and Shoma let out a soft, questioning sound, eyebrows raising.

‘Huh?’ he said, blinking. He looked over at Nobu in bewilderment as he clapped his hands together with apparent delight at this development, then cast a glance at Yuzuru, who was glaring at Javier almost murderously, even as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

‘I know you know Shoma was going to be my first choice,’ Yuzuru said, to Shoma’s surprise, and Javier looked back at him, clearly pleased with himself.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Javier said. Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Sure you don’t.’

‘If it makes you feel any better? I have no idea how I got signed up for this,’ Shoma told Yuzuru faintly, wriggling out of Javier’s grasp and attempting to flick his hair out of his eyes in a desperate bid for some appearance of authority over his own fate in all this.

‘Ah, but that wasn’t a no, right?’ Javier remarked and Shoma squirmed, shooting Yuzuru an apologetic look.

‘If it helps, I’m pretty sure you could get Boyang to be on your team and he would basically die for you,’ he offered with a timid smile. ‘I think he thinks you hung the moon or something.’

‘Wait: Yuzu didn’t hang the moon?!’ Nobu gasped dramatically. ‘My whole understanding of the universe is ruined!’ Yuzuru shoved him and glanced at Shoma with a smile.

‘Fine. We’ll play. And I call Boyang – I don’t care if we have to search the whole of the Foundation to find him, he’s mine. But, Shoma?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’ll be watching you,’ Yuzuru said, a curious smile lighting his face.

‘Oh, fighting talk!’ Nobu said, clapping his hands again.

‘Actually, I’m not so sure that was about fighting,’ Javier murmured under his breath, and Shoma glanced up at him curiously. Javier smiled. ‘Just saying,’ he shrugged.

 

Shoma glanced back at Yuzuru then, but he simply shrugged as if nothing had happened at all. ‘Yuzuru loves a challenge – you are the best one he’s had to face in a while I think,’ Javier whispered by Shoma’s ear, before clapping a hand on his shoulder and getting to his feet. ‘Ok, we need to go find the rest of our teams,’ he announced to the group at large, suddenly all mischief again, as though he hadn’t breathed so much as a word to Shoma.

‘And I need to get the rest of Team Japan down here to see this,’ Kanako giggled.

‘Where can I find better friends?’ Yuzuru lamented, even as he let Nobu and Javier haul him to his feet.

‘With the Canadians, maybe? But Patrick still thinks you’re insane, so I wouldn’t count on it,’ Javier said, patting him comfortingly on the back. ‘Shoma, come on – you don’t get out of this either. I feel like you will be my secret weapon.’

‘Not so secret, actually: I won’t be underestimating him, for sure,’ Yuzuru said, looking over at Shoma with a quiet, knowing smile.

‘You’re terrifying, has anyone ever told you that?’ Shoma grumbled, getting to his feet.

‘On a daily basis,’ Yuzuru nodded, smiling like it was compliment. ‘I don’t know why.’

‘It’s the death stare, Yuzu. Definitely the death stare,’ Javier sighed, laughing as Yuzuru kicked out at him and putting his arms around both his and Shoma’s shoulders, looking between them. ‘You two? You are both hopeless cases. Not everything is a battle. Let yourselves go – just for one Sunday afternoon, please?’

 

It was, it turned out, a pleasant way to pass what remained of their day off; Shoma enjoyed the friendly competition and the chance to stretch his legs out. The Foundation was a beautiful place, but it could feel somewhat confining at times – he’d missed playing games with his brother back home and not feeling like he was constantly on the verge of being trapped behind a desk for a few hours. Everyone seemed to need the release; those who weren’t playing began to gather on the edges, picking sides and cheering far too enthusiastically for a Sunday kickabout amongst friends. It felt curiously like the end of term in high school – spirits high and responsibilities abandoned – and for a while Shoma was able to push back the clutter of other people’s powers from his mind and forget how far he was away from home.

 

Yuzuru’s team lost, despite Evgenia’s best efforts as she danced effortlessly around most of Javier’s team to score on more than one occasion. Shoma scored the winning goal without really trying to, and Javier had gone straight over to Yuzuru to gloat whilst the rest of the team piled on top of a bewildered Shoma and fought each other for a chance to give his hair a congratulatory ruffle. When Yuzuru had shot Shoma the look of a wounded puppy, he hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh and shrug in reply, and he’d been rewarded with one of Yuzuru’s fullest smiles in return, strangely soft but still forceful. In the end Yuzuru’s team mingled in with Javier’s to graciously accept their defeat with hugs and handshakes, all wearing playful pouts, and Yuzuru complained dramatically about how unfair it all was even as he offered Javier congratulations. The only member of Yuzuru’s team impervious to it all had been Boyang, who considered himself to be a winner having received a wild hug, effusive praise and a bonus hair ruffle from his team captain – who seemed as enamoured with Boyang as Boyang was with him. Yuzuru, for his part, played the role of loser with unique grace: he pouted and sulked just enough to entertain his friends and satisfy his competitive streak, then, in a heartbeat, he threw it off, launching himself into hugging his team and teasing Javier, pulling at Wakaba’s ponytail and laughing giddily at Alex and Nathan’s attempt at a victory dance. It was what people wanted from him and he had given it – the spoilt child whining over a fun, Sunday team game for one moment, then the ridiculous everyman giggling at anything the next. It was a delicate line he had to walk, but he played the part with surprising subtlety and grace for someone who so often seemed to be nothing but relentless force.

 

As the air cooled around them, Shoma noticed there were butterflies chasing in Yuzuru’s wake again; he waved them off with a frown, as though he was scolding them, before sending them away on a gentle breeze. Shoma wasn’t sure how no one else seemed to notice the brief prickling in the air as Yuzuru’s power fizzed up and out into the evening – to him it was undeniable. Yuzuru caught him looking, putting a finger to his lips and offering Shoma a conspiratorial wink, and Shoma had laughed, rolling his eyes at him even as he felt a blush rising in his cheeks.

 

The day drifted out surprisingly quickly after the fun and frenzy of the game. The Foundation was not immune, it turned out, to the heaviness of feeling that seemed to mark out Sundays everywhere; a wistful mood had settled over people as the light ebbed out, and everyone drifted back into their different groups, returning to sit on blankets and in quiet corners with books and phones and murmured conversations. The sun set out over the sea in wild pinks and dreamlike purples, and Shoma lay on his stomach, staring out at the rumbling foam of the waves and the silhouettes of fishing boats moving across the painted swirl of shifting colours the sea had become. Satoko sat reading beside him whilst Keiji sprawled out behind, half-dozing as he watched something on his phone. It almost felt like home for a while. Shoma was happy inside the thick quiet, finally clear-headed enough to not only know exactly what he wanted, but also to make peace with it. It wasn’t so scary to be known – it was perhaps the home away from home he desperately needed. Besides, he was stubborn, but there was only so much willpower could achieve: Yuzuru was a magnet, and he only seemed to grow stronger the more he was resisted.

 

Yuzuru appeared in the courtyard at midnight the same way he always did. Danced through the shadows and drifted down the steps. Shoma let him disappear through the maze of corridors with a sense of calm – his jaw set, steady determination in his eyes. The metallic clank of the Foundation’s underworld was strangely soothing, and Shoma ran his hands along walls and the familiar jutting points of rock like he was tracing the lines of a map; he could feel power at his fingertips, the lingering traces of the human storm who had passed by the same way just minutes before. And when he finally came to the point where the corridor morphed into cliff and all he had to do was push back the gate, this time he didn’t even hesitate long enough to catch his breath. He pushed.

 

At first Shoma thought he was being led down yet another dark corridor, simply one carved out of rock rather than built of concrete. But then the darkness opened out and Shoma saw a light up ahead – as he approached it, he realised that the metallic sounds of the Foundation corridors had been replaced by the sound of birdsong and the rustle of a breeze, and his heart seemed to turn over in his chest as he caught a glimpse of butterflies, flittering past his head at speed. He stepped cautiously towards the opening, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw what lay beyond: a sun-filled garden, somehow carved out of the Foundation’s cliff. Shoma reached out a hand to touch the petals of a flower by his feet and it felt like an electric shock; his body vibrated with the familiar magic of Yuzuru, like the very air was made up of his static, and Shoma shivered, lifting his gaze to take in the full picture of the space.

 

He was standing on a winding path, framed either side with wildflowers that licked like paint splashes at the foot of the walls of the cliff-cave. The pathway led down at a gentle slope and, where it finally flattened out, there sat a large pond, lined on one side by trees weighed down heavy by blossom, others rich with dancing green leaves; cautiously Shoma followed the rough path down, taking in the space with wide, astounded eyes, hardly daring to take a breath. Every blade of grass and every leaf seemed to twist and shimmer, rippling out like a green sea all the way down to the water’s edge, broken up in places by sudden bursts of colour, flowers standing tall, reaching their heads up towards the breeze, other, smaller ones peeking out in timid starbursts. Some were in clusters: wild purples and reds, unapologetic pinks and splashes of rich blue. Others stood alone: orange and yellow and more timid pastels dashed out at random amongst the shifting grass. Fallen petals lined the path, occasionally dancing up in the breeze like feathers, and small, blue and white birds hopped from branch to branch in the scattered trees beyond the water’s edge; it felt as if the space was breathing, as if every part of it were preparing to warm up and sing. A blush of cherry blossom petals fell and drifted out across the pond’s surface, trailing in pretty, pastel slipstreams over the water, which was like a mirror of perfect glass, the cherry trees reflected there seeming to stretch down into the pond’s depths with dark fingers, vanishing eventually into an invisible underwater sky. The pond was crossed by a low, simple bridge, and the shards of gold and dancing ripples which occasionally appeared on its surface suggested a population of fish lay beneath. The space felt surprisingly open and fresh – bright as spring – and when Shoma lifted his eyes upwards he realised the ceiling of the cavernous space was taken over by its very own blue sky, perfect white clouds at its edges, drifting happily by. Shoma stopped at the bottom of the path and stared, overwhelmed; a gleaming white butterfly landed on his shoulder and he glanced down at it in mild surprise, turning slightly. And that was when he finally saw him: Yuzuru, sitting at the pond’s edge.

 

The air was filled with magic, and Yuzuru’s power was so distinctive, so familiar to Shoma now that it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him there – and yet it still somehow was. Because whilst the leaves and petals and ripples around him danced, Yuzuru was curiously still: a column of pure, unwavering power, the only thing not dancing. Shoma thought it might have been the first time he’d seen him not moving; strands of his hair were briefly lifted by the breeze, but he barely even seemed to be breathing, all his usual energy still there but being used in an altogether different way. He looked like a trick of the light, sitting there – he looked like the unreal thing he was, ethereal and glorious. The rich colours of him were finally all Shoma’s to know completely, and it was almost too much. He took a step forward and then stopped again, pulling at the skin of his bottom lip as he took a moment to try and steady his breathing. Around him the wildflowers played gracefully in the breeze; the air smelt of peaches and fresh-cut grass and it made Shoma smile slightly. He took a moment to collect himself, to close his eyes against crispness of the curious breeze; it was peaceful, warm and soothing. Familiar, because it was Yuzuru – and daunting, because it was Yuzuru.

 

Shoma focused himself, cleared his head and, tentatively, reached out in the way which was becoming second nature to him; the thunder from the edges of his consciousness rumbled closer and Shoma jumped slightly, opening his eyes again quickly, his gaze falling back on Yuzuru immediately.

‘I was starting to think you would never come.’ Yuzuru’s voice was soft and strangely musical as he looked back at Shoma, the smile at the very corner of his lips somehow knowing. Shoma swallowed down the tight bubble of air he felt was trapped in his throat.

‘I wasn’t sure if I would,’ he managed, small and scratchy. He shrugged one shoulder, meeting Yuzuru’s eyes cautiously. ‘But then I realised something today: you didn’t bother demanding promises or guarantees from me to keep your secrets. You just gave. That’s someone who is showing me who they really are, what they really care about. Without expectation – just with honesty. And hope, maybe. That’s something kind of magical, I think. And there’s maybe a challenge in it too.’ Shoma bit his lip. ‘So I thought I should show you who I am too. What I care about.’ He looked down at his hands and shifted slightly from foot to foot, aware of Yuzuru’s gaze fixed intently upon him; as always Yuzuru allowed him the time to find his words, to take a breath and try to find the heart of what he was attempting to convey. ‘What I care about is people, and how they think.’ He looked up, finally meeting Yuzuru’s gaze again. ‘And, you know…I also care about you.’ Yuzuru’s smile brightened just a little, eyes shining.

‘And how I think?’ he asked, quirking an eyebrow – he looked almost nervous and it made Shoma smile softly.

‘I want to listen to you,’ he said, smile turning lopsided as he glanced away. ‘I’m used to listening to people but…I want to keep listening to you, even when you stop.’ He drew in a deep breath, looking back up at Yuzuru slowly. ‘I want to listen to you even when all I would usually want would be to tune out or go to sleep. You start up in my head like a song that won’t go away.’ Yuzuru’s eyes gleamed. ‘You’re undeniable. So I stopped trying to deny it. It seemed…fairer than pretending I saw you any other way but how you are. I want to listen to you because you should be listened to…but also because…I like the song. I like what I hear in you.’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched into the smallest, fondest smile imaginable.

‘I want to listen to you too. If you’ll let me,’ he said softly, and Shoma swallowed, nodding.

‘I think I’d like that,’ he managed in a whisper, his throat dry and his shoulders tense. Yuzuru offered him another smile, wider this time, and he patted the grass beside him, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

‘You’ve come this far,’ he pointed out with a small laugh when Shoma hesitated. ‘I still don’t bite,’ he added with a playful roll of his eyes. Shoma laughed too then, a little more openly; a little of the tension went out of him, and he crossed the rest of the distance between them, coming over to join Yuzuru by the water.

 

As Shoma sat down beside him, Yuzuru drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head on them in order to look over at him. His cheek was pillowed slightly against his bony kneecaps, rounding out his face, his expression soft and a little tired, pink lips curved up in a lazy half-smile. Shoma looked back for a moment, offering a small smile of his own before turning his gaze upwards towards the tops of the trees, somewhat enchanted by the way they swayed in time with each other. The sky that graced the rocky ceiling overhead had changed a little since Shoma had arrived, the colour shifting into the blue of early evenings in late spring, just as the season was getting ready to change. The air felt a little lighter, and Shoma closed his eyes against it for a second, leaning back on his hands with a happy little hum. He could feel Yuzuru’s eyes still watching him, but he didn’t mind – he had given his own permission, let down his own guards. He was himself in his company and he wasn’t afraid of that any more – he was at peace beside him in every way, and the cool air across his skin emphasised that sense of calm. He felt tired but he felt happy, like Yuzuru’s gaze was a lullaby, relaxing him piece by piece. He opened his eyes at the sound of the breeze skimming the treetops again, watching the way the leaves and petals twisted in the light, like coins being poured into a wishing well. It made him smile.

 

‘What is this place?’ Shoma asked, hushed, into the calm between them. Yuzuru hummed.

‘A place everyone else has forgotten about,’ he said, giving a shrug. ‘Somewhere to come when you want to be forgotten about too.’ Shoma looked back at him, enquiring, and Yuzuru offered him a smile. ‘When they first wanted to build the Foundation, the original plan was to build down, you know? To go into the cliff instead of over it, because they thought maybe it could never become a Grey Zone that way. Brian fought the whole board to change their minds, because he and Tracy believed no one would want to leave their home to live in darkness, and they didn’t believe the world could put its trust in something hidden away.’

‘Sometimes magic needs to be seen to believed,’ Shoma nodded slowly. ‘Some places – some people – need to be on show because it helps them reach the people who need them the most. Hope only travels in the light.’

‘Exactly,’ Yuzuru said gently, eyes studying Shoma with that same reverent wonder he’d had in his face when he’d studied his power mark. Shoma smiled shyly back, somewhat overwhelmed by how pleased Yuzuru always seemed to be when he spoke. He looked down bringing his hands into his lap and running a finger along a half-healed papercut for the sake of having something to do other than shiver under Yuzuru’s scrutiny.

‘So, Brian got his way then?’ he prompted. Yuzuru hummed his agreement.

‘Eventually. It took work, but it got him where he is today – everything here became his vision after his idea took off so well.’

‘After he managed to get you to come here, you mean,’ Shoma countered, eyes briefly dancing with mischief. Yuzuru pulled a face at him.

‘Like I took any convincing,’ he shot back. Shoma laughed.

‘Every TV program in Japan was talking about it. I don’t even watch TV half the time and I knew every TV program was talking about it: that’s how many people were talking about it,’ he smirked. ‘My parents talked about it so much my brother and me felt like our eyes were permanently rolling: we could have both dropped out of school and run off to another city and they wouldn’t have noticed because they were so into all the drama. They thought the government were overselling their role in it all, like they were trying to make out like they’d crafted some incredible deal that might never have happened without them. Even I figured out that it was stupid. I saw the look in your eyes: I knew it was all you from the start.’  Yuzuru narrowed his eyes slightly, lips pursing.

‘Shoma, how do you always see so much?’ he asked playfully. Shoma shrugged, smiling slyly.

‘I don’t. You’re just not as much of a mystery as you think,’ he said and Yuzuru laughed, rolling his eyes.

‘You’ve been following me like a shadow for a week now – I must be doing something right,’ he pointed out. Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘I’m just here to register a noise complaint: your energy’s in my ears all day, you’re like an orchestra that can’t tune up properly…but never stops trying.’

 

Yuzuru’s laugh was exuberant and rough and Shoma felt his chest swell, happy and proud to have caused such a carefree look on his face. ‘Where are we and why, Hanyu. Start talking or I’m going back to bed like a sensible person.’

‘Sensible people are boring, Shoma,’ Yuzuru replied with a grin, unfolding his limbs with a happy sigh and leaning back on his hands. ‘They’re not having half the fun we’re having,’ he added with a conspiratorial nod. Shoma stifled a laugh.

‘So we’re down in the part of the Foundation people just…forgot?’ he asked. Yuzuru shrugged.

‘Pretty much. The decision was made to start building up and this place got left behind; some rooms they managed to give new purpose to, something practical. But the space was too big. I think this part is where they just…stopped.’

 

Yuzuru leant forward, briefly dipping his fingers into the water and laughing as a fish darted up towards them excitedly. ‘When I first came here I would sneak out every night to explore every place I could – I needed something to take my mind off all the things that had changed, off all the things that were expected of me.’

‘You needed to escape,’ Shoma said with understanding. Yuzuru closed his eyes for a beat.

‘That too,’ he admitted quietly. ‘It felt selfish, to miss home when other people faced missing their whole understanding of the world; losing colour, losing everything. So I pretended I didn’t miss anything. I needed something else to think about instead so I could keep up the pretence.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘I was the youngest but I had the most expected of me – everyone thought I was the answer to something, even people here. People with power, people who’d been using their powers longer than me, longer than I’d even been alive. I didn’t just see it in their faces – I could feel it too, feel their power and their expectations and fears. I still do sometimes, I’ve just learnt how to pick and choose, you know?’ Shoma nodded; he was learning to do the same, even if he didn’t face the same weight of expectation mixed in with it all. ‘I wanted somewhere to go when it felt like too much. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere mine.’

 

Yuzuru looked up then, eyes studying the rocky ceiling with an almost nostalgic smile. ‘I started with the sky – I needed to light it somehow, so I could see it properly and know what to do with it.’ Shoma’s eyes widened slightly.

‘So you just conjured a whole sky?!’ he laughed in mild disbelief. Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled with amusement and he shrugged dismissively.

‘Why not?’

‘Because normal people would just buy a lamp, Yuzuru.’ Yuzuru laughed, throwing his head back before shooting Shoma a playful glare.

‘Power should be used, though, right?’ he said, dipping his fingers back in the water for a moment and then flicking water in Shoma’s face. Shoma wrinkled his nose, wiping the droplets away and kicking out, but Yuzuru ducked out of the way with ease, laughing brightly, and Shoma had to smother a grin, rolling his eyes slightly.

‘So why down here? Why like this?’ he asked with a small sigh. ‘I mean, you get to use your power whenever you want – no one would stop you, they couldn’t even if they wanted to.’

 

Yuzuru looked down, worrying at his lip slightly, and Shoma watched him silently, his expression open and quiet. He allowed him the space he needed to think; Shoma didn’t need dead air filled or thoughts that were unfinished. He wanted honesty and the sort of thoughts that lived too deep inside someone to be retrieved quickly. Yuzuru overflowed with pieces of things, fragments and threads and galaxies; Shoma suspected that, to look inside himself, he had to look at many things he didn’t want to, many memories he would rather discard and many lessons he wished he’d never had to learn. But he was a fearless soul – the sort of person who could stare these things in the eye and accept they had made him stronger, begrudgingly recognise purpose even in the most painful moments. It was what made him such a force to be reckoned with: Yuzuru wasn’t simply power, he was power that had been formed and directed and shaped, he was a person who had learnt to use the experiences other people discarded to his advantage, to make them a part of himself he acknowledged rather than buried. Shoma admired that; he liked to think his own pain threshold was higher than average, that he navigated life by absorbing the shocks, burying them deep but only until he could process them so that he could then draw them out once the lesson was ready to be learned. It was a slower, less headlong version of Yuzuru’s own path – another point of commonality.

 

‘It’s been a really long time since I belonged…you know?’ Yuzuru’s voice was soft and a little broken when he spoke again, and Shoma reached out immediately, placing a hand over Yuzuru’s. Yuzuru closed his eyes, sagging a little, as though melting into the touch. Shoma gave his hand a squeeze, just enough to let him know he could wait until he was ready to go on. He had realised that Yuzuru took more comfort from touch than anything else, that he was always reaching out – with arms and hands and all of his being, throwing himself into things and pulling people closer – because he lived in constant hope that someone would be strong enough to reach back without faltering under pressure. Even his energy threw out its arms, unashamedly needy; Shoma had answered an unspoken call every time he had allowed that lightning to touch at his edges, he realised. Someone so used to being seen as entirely other probably needed the tangibility of an actual hand closing around his own as an equal more than most, though. And Shoma offered that tangibility gladly.

 

Yuzuru swallowed, resting his forehead to his knees again and letting out a breath; his hand turned beneath Shoma’s and slowly, deliberately, squeezed back. ‘I didn’t notice it happening. I wasn’t home often, but it always felt like home to me – I thought it would stay that way always. Looking back on it now, I think it started slipping out of my reach before I even left, maybe. Getting away from me without me noticing. And then I came here, and maybe here should have become home. But here wasn’t home at all. The trouble was, once I’d been here long enough, home wasn’t there anymore either – it couldn’t even pretend to be any longer. Before the Grey Zone took over, I could at least feel like maybe it was something I knew, something still a little bit mine. But after…’ Yuzuru took another deep breath, finally lifting his head and resting his chin on his knees, staring unseeingly at the water, those expressive eyes of his sad and sparkling with the reflection of the ripples across its surface. ‘I went on a visit there once. After, I mean. I knew I shouldn’t – no one wanted me to go. But I couldn’t not, you know? I needed to see.’ He glanced over at Shoma, who gave a slight nod, tilting his head a little in thought.

‘Sometimes, when you realise you forgot to miss something as much as you should…you need to remind yourself what you lost. Even if you know it will hurt.’ Shoma smiled slightly sadly. ‘The hurt is good. It makes you know it mattered once.’ Yuzuru smiled back, eyes dark and damp and grateful.

‘How can you have words for something no one else would give me words for?’ he asked. Shoma shifted slightly, resting his own head on his knees in a mirror of Yuzuru’s pose.

‘Maybe they didn’t want to give you the words because they thought it wouldn’t change anything; they knew your mind was made up.’ Yuzuru let out a soft, sad laugh.

‘Maybe. Maybe I should have let them talk me round, though.’ He sighed. ‘After I saw the Grey Zone it had become, I knew whatever home I had left in Japan was gone. Gone in a new way to how it had been gone before. And although the Foundation was a home of sorts – a family, even, in a way – I knew it wasn’t something that would be forever. It was something that would eventually be gone, one way or another. It wasn’t mine. I would walk around at night, looking for something that would make me feel less disconnected from everything; I don’t think I really knew or understood what that could be. I’m not often quiet, I’m not often peaceful, I’m rarely someone who rests; but I wanted somewhere I could maybe try to be, where I had the space and the sense of ownership to risk pretending to be completely free, to just do as I pleased without having to wonder who might be looking.’

 

Yuzuru’s eyes wandered over to where a flock of butterflies were chasing each other across the pond; purples and blues and pinks, dashes of black and glints of white. ‘The butterflies were always dancing through the grounds back then, but they just seemed lost. Wherever I would go I would find them – they started following me like they thought I might know where they belonged. The Foundation was built on what used to be their home. I realised that they were like me: they didn’t have anywhere to go, nothing to belong to. They were stateless. I understood them, like that. When I realised no one ever came down here, I thought – it’s not such a waste of power, if I could create something for them as well as myself. Maybe I can make a place where, even if we don’t feel at home, we could at least be stateless together. That’s a kind of belonging, I think.’

‘So you just…made this place?’ Shoma asked. Yuzuru nodded, his smile almost shy.

‘I finally had something which was only mine.’ His smile dimmed a little, a frown briefly creasing his features. ‘It took a long time. To be able to. I wasn’t…when I came back from my hometown, I wasn’t strong enough for anything for a while. Things got out of hand there, because I didn’t do as I was told and The Snatchers hunted me down.’

‘You were reckless, because it was home and you forgot anything else mattered.’

‘People talk, huh?’

‘A little. But your eyes talk too.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘You saw things you didn’t want to see.’ He swallowed, looking down. ‘You felt things too, right? Things you couldn’t explain, because no one else had the power to feel them…and no part of you wanted to put them into words in case those words hurt others as much as what you had felt hurt you.’

‘You got all that just from my eyes?’

‘I told you before: you’re loud even when you’re quiet. The lines people let get away from their stories are sometimes stories in themselves.’ Shoma squeezed his hand. ‘Words left unsaid can hurt sometimes too – you have to be careful what you give to people if you want to protect them, but you have to be careful what you protect them from also. There’s probably no right or wrong – everything is a gamble with feelings. As long as you mean well, that’s what counts, I think. You have to take your time, to make sure your motives are good, that you’re not being honest just because you have the power to be more honest than most.’

‘You’ve had moments too, right? When you felt too much to ever possibly say without causing more pain?’ Yuzuru asked, thin-voiced and tentative. Shoma gave the smallest of nods. ‘There are more things in the silence than people know. And maybe they shouldn’t have to know it. Maybe it’s safer that way.’

‘But what about us? Why do we get to know these things and have to bear them?’ Shoma asked. Yuzuru squeezed his hand.

‘Maybe to help us find each other?’ he offered. Shoma looked up at him, eyes dark and searching.

‘You say that like you were looking,’ he murmured, and Yuzuru offered him a tentative smile.

‘When the world is always looking to you, you have to search for something to look to for yourself. I wanted something to believe in too.’

‘And you chose to believe in me?’

‘Yes.’ He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I believed in you before I knew it was you I was believing in. I was always waiting – to finally hear something out there which might reach back. Then there you were. Like the brightest light, the warmest sunbeam from behind heavy cloud.’

 

Yuzuru’s smile turned into a something a little distant, and he looked down for a moment. ‘After some of the things I have felt, your power was like a revelation. I thought maybe there was a chance in you to have a secret that wasn’t something sad or worrisome; I thought maybe you needed that too.’ He met Shoma’s eyes again then, offering him another small smile. ‘People have been telling me the weight of the world is on my shoulders since before there were even Grey Zones. But it is not so easy for you either. Not speaking up didn’t make you feel any less responsible. You feel the need to help: you place the weight of the world on your own shoulders, regardless of anyone else. That’s what _your_ eyes tell me.’

 

For a moment they let the quiet settle over them, each looking at the other with a strange sort of wonder that could’ve almost bordered on suspicion; they were two people who spent a lot of time being unknown to those around them, but when they were together they were bare bones and dust, exposed beyond what they ever could be with anyone else. Shoma closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe and clear his head. He wasn’t used to being heard. He wasn’t used to being around someone who seemed content to listen even to the things he didn’t say with words – Yuzuru was attentive to his pauses, his glances, his sighs, seemed to hang on them like they contained all his secrets and stories and he wanted to breathe them in. It was something more intense than he was used to; everything Yuzuru did he did with feeling, with force, and Shoma was sensitive, easily overwhelmed. It seemed like a risk – but he’d come this far. He was honest but he was quiet, he cared but he was withdrawn; these were the contradictions he knew about himself, that he was used to using to define how he fitted into the world. But Yuzuru slipped through the cracks in those simplifications: he saw magic and force and peace, he saw sunlight shining through the faultlines and revelled in it. He saw Shoma’s heart for what it was – both flawed and brilliant in its sensitivity – and he saw the strength and fight that sat deep inside him too: what Shoma was used to having to draw out, Yuzuru found with ease. He turned it into what Shoma was, rather than what he could be. And he admired it. Challenged it. Matched it with a fierceness of his own.

 

Yuzuru’s thumb brushed along Shoma’s skin, giving him the faintest reminder that he was still there, and Shoma opened his eyes to look over at him. He looked the most peaceful Shoma had ever seen him; still bright and full-up, still Yuzuru, but anchored, like Shoma’s hand in his was a welcome weight, keeping him from drifting away. Around them the light had shifted again, the painted sky above cooling further into a blue-grey dusk. A full moon crept out from a drifting silver cloud and Shoma watched as the stars around it winked and shimmered, growing a little brighter.

‘How does it do that?’ he asked quietly, glancing across at Yuzuru curiously. In the pale light he looked more unreal than ever, and Shoma was grateful for the slight scratch of the ridges of his fingerprints against his skin, the warmth of his palm – he needed the reminder of his humanity and of his closeness, of his existence being a provable thing.

‘Magic, Shoma!’ Yuzuru smiled impishly and Shoma pulled a face at him.

‘You’re not clever, you know,’ he shot back, eyes glinting, and Yuzuru let out a laugh.

‘I’m the most clever,’ he said with a firm nod, looking over at Shoma from the corner of his eye. ‘And you must think so – you’re admiring my work, after all.’

‘I don’t know if I’m admiring so much,’ Shoma shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m just keeping an eye on you: clearly someone has to.’

‘Now you sound like Javi,’ Yuzuru replied, wrinkling his nose in a show of distaste and reaching up to jostle Shoma, who was laughing softly.

‘You’re impossible – and not in the ways people think,’ he said. Yuzuru nodded.

‘True.’ Shoma sighed and shook his head with a small, fond smile, looking around them again contemplatively.

‘But you’re impossible in the ways people do think too, you know. The crazy, powerful, beautiful ways,’ he murmured then. ‘Because…this…’ He looked back at Yuzuru. ‘It’s you, right? It changes with you – it’s a reflection of you.’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched slightly at the corner, and he looked down somewhat shyly.

‘You noticed, huh?’ He shook his head. ‘Of course. Because you’re Shoma.’ There was a curl of a smile on his lips as he said it, and when he met Shoma’s eyes again he felt his chest go tight, because somehow he knew he’d just been paid a profound compliment. Yuzuru shrugged. ‘I think maybe this place is a part of me, somehow. Because of the way I used my power when I created it.’ He shot Shoma a meaningful look, his smile turning evasive. ‘I maybe tried some things people still don’t even know I can do…because I never told anyone I could and they would’ve tried to stop me if I had…’

 

For a moment Shoma just stared at him, his features drawn into the faintest of frowns as he attempted to make sense of what Yuzuru was trying to convey without saying aloud. Then, slowly, Shoma’s eyes widened.

‘ _Yuzu._ ’ He breathed it out: a telling off, an exclamation and a realisation all in one. Yuzuru looked at him with a smile that was pure sunbeams, giddy and ridiculous – and Shoma wasn’t sure if it was the wonder, the disapproval or the nickname slipping out that pleased him most. He always seemed delighted when Shoma unlocked some riddle of his, when Shoma took a step closer or asked him a question; nothing seemed to please him more than when Shoma pushed back against him in challenge. There was a blush creeping along Shoma’s neck and he could feel the burn of it, but he didn’t look away. Yuzuru’s smile changed into something fiercer, his eyes intent as he quirked an eyebrow.

‘What?’ he said innocently and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘You were at your weakest and you were hurt and you just…threw yourself in?’ Yuzuru tried his best to keep down his smile and Shoma almost laughed. ‘You combined powers, right? Like that wasn’t going to be exhausting?’ Yuzuru shrugged and Shoma shook his head again, looking around the garden with fresh eyes. ‘You used emotion too, didn’t you? To combine it all with?’ he asked, glancing briefly back at Yuzuru when he nodded. ‘Like Tracy’s lecture.’ Shoma looked back up at the now-starry sky, studied where it faded out and became rock once more, tracing the uneven edges with his eyes. ‘She doesn’t know?’ he asked then. Yuzuru shook his head.

‘I _am_ a power combination – it’s second nature to me, to bleed classifications and powers and stories together. Her theory goes into something more than that: into giving force to power by combining it, into trying to fix what is lost and not just create something which wasn’t there before. Empty space that never new any different will let you do anything with it, but loss is a power of its own; something with its own strength and its own ideas, it is hard to manipulate it into being whole again. What I can do…it’s not enough to solve the problem. It is a selfish thing – so what is the use?’ Shoma frowned, reaching out to squeeze Yuzuru’s shoulder and shifting in order to force him to meet his gaze.

‘It’s not selfish to want peace,’ he said gently. Yuzuru shrugged.

‘Maybe it is for me.’ Shoma shook his head.

‘No. You need peace more than anyone else, Yuzuru. You sacrifice enough; a few seconds of peace won’t cost the world as much as the world costs you,’ he said determinedly.

 

Yuzuru looked at him with wide, sad eyes and he offered him a kind, lopsided smile in return. ‘I’m not like other people who you can pretend to, right? So don’t pretend. I know what it’s like to have everything inside constantly being stretched out, to have too much information coming in at once and no way of escaping from it because it’s inside of you already.’ He shrugged. ‘You can’t save the world when you’ve burnt out every nerve ending you have – you can barely lift your head that way.’

‘I can hold my nerve, Shoma.’

‘Maybe.’ Shoma smiled. ‘But you don’t have to. Not for my sake. I don’t need you to play at being untouchable – I prefer you when you don’t. I like that you’re human. That’s what makes you the most magic of all to me.’

 

Shoma wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at him the way Yuzuru looked at him then: the smile was entirely in his eyes, his lips just parted, the rest of his face almost still. It was like watching a sunrise, seeing the feeling seep in like morning over the horizon. And Shoma felt it too, felt the warmth wash over his skin and into his being, the path of it traced by the familiar zigging and zagging of relentless electricity, the pulse of it humming in his ears; Yuzuru, unreserved. ‘Stop it,’ Shoma said with a small laugh, pushing back just a little with his own power. Yuzuru’s face split into a grin that he attempted to smother.

‘Stop what, Shoma?’ he asked, his voice dripping with sweetness and feigned innocence. Shoma wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Lightning. Always with the lightning,’ he groaned, eyes twinkling as he shoved him away lightly. ‘Just because someone’s finally got the power to feel it and know it’s you doesn’t mean you have to show off.’

‘But I love to show off,’ Yuzuru grinned. Shoma smirked, rolling his eyes.

‘I’d noticed,’ he said dryly, shaking his head when Yuzuru simply laughed, ridiculous and brilliant.

 

‘You want to learn?’ Yuzuru asked suddenly into the pause between them. Shoma frowned.

‘Huh?’

‘You have powers too, right?’ Shoma looked at him with a deadpan stare and Yuzuru laughed. ‘Fine, I know you have powers – but what I mean is…you have powers you’re not supposed to. You have more powers than people know about or think you could ever possibly have…’ Shoma didn’t react and Yuzuru pulled a face at him ‘You are a rule-breaker, Shoma. I know one when I sense one. You’re another mystery. Healer…Artist…Warrior. Unclassifiable. Just like me.’

‘I never said that,’ Shoma said quickly, and Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him, suppressing a smile.

‘Now who’s holding their nerve, huh?’ he shot back, eyebrows raised in challenge. Shoma stared him down for a beat before rolling his eyes.

‘My power does what it wants – you know, you’ve seen it,’ he muttered, looking down and pulling a face. ‘I don’t know if I’d say I was like you. Your power defies classification because you defy everything. Maybe mine’s just a mess – because I’m a mess, after all. I don’t know what you’d call someone who can’t even control their power properly.’

‘Shoma,’ Yuzuru chided, smacking his arm lightly, forcing him to meet his gaze again. ‘Maybe your power is raw – but with your strength, your calm? It could be something amazing. Not everything needs to be lightning. Not everyone should be that way – there is magic in variety, I think.’ Yuzuru’s expression softened into a tender smile. ‘Sometimes it is better to be daybreak. To be quietly boundless, with an honest, open heart.’ He shrugged. ‘After a storm there follows calm. For those who experience it, there is just as much power in the peace as in the thunder – it’s just different, that’s all.’

 

Yuzuru sat back, still looking at Shoma from the corner of his eye – piercing and assessing – and Shoma looked back at him unflinchingly. He was starting to realise just how he felt whole in his presence, like all the hidden pieces had come to the surface; there was no point in hiding from someone who saw all of him, who made him feel so clearly defined. And if Yuzuru wanted, he could’ve just sensed for these things – these parts of himself that Shoma was offering willingly could easily have been drawn out with magic and lightning and persistence. But Yuzuru had mostly drawn them out with shared jokes and quiet words instead. Shoma valued Yuzuru’s humanity, and clearly Yuzuru valued his. If Yuzuru saw value in the disaster that was his inner world, then Shoma wasn’t going to discount it – Yuzuru saw the world differently to him, and he was fascinated by that, wanted to try and see things that way himself, to know if he would like the view. Yuzuru smiled like he knew, leaning his weight on his hands with a small hum. ‘Artist powers,’ he said suddenly. Shoma blinked and Yuzuru looked over at him with barely contained amusement. ‘The power to transform any surface into an image, and make it a window to that place…the power to transform a still image into such a window as well, to reach in and pull something out, or even bring the image to life…and…?’ Shoma let out a small laugh.

‘And the power to conjure things – even things from someone else’s mind, if that person can picture it clearly enough. Some Artists have even transformed themselves into something else before now. Or made themselves appear invisible.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You’re making me learn again?’ he joked. Yuzuru laughed.

‘A little.’ He shuffled closer to Shoma, bumping their shoulders playfully. ‘Humour me?’ Shoma let out a small groan.

‘You are the worst friend!’ Yuzuru beamed at him and Shoma had to laugh, rolling his eyes yet again and throwing his hands up in surrender. ‘ _Fine._ Do you have to always get your own way?!’ Yuzuru caught his bottom lip somewhat guiltily between his teeth and Shoma shook his head in fond despair. ‘Don’t answer that. Just give me the lecture already and get it over with.’

 

Yuzuru laughed, unapologetically overjoyed at Shoma’s surrender, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile back at him a little tiredly; it was hard to be annoyed, when he was so obviously excited to finally have someone there, someone willing to listen to his thoughts and share in his insights. Yuzuru was always talking, but what Shoma hadn’t realised was how rarely people actually listened enough for him to feel he could get out the things he most wanted to express; they wanted jokes and soundbites and simple solutions, not the complicated tangle of wild, roving thoughts he lived with daily, racing on faster and faster in the back of his mind until all they had to chase was themselves.

 

‘You think I’m crazy, but it’s not that crazy, right?’ Yuzuru was enthusiastic and animated now, talking with his hands, eyes wide and bright. Shoma would have happily listened to him talk about anything when he was lit up like that, and he rested his head back on his knees, smiling lazily at the way Yuzuru was grinning, brimming over and rushing out his words. ‘Powers are already tied up with emotions: they have to be, you know? And for you and me, that means our powers are already doing things no one else’s powers can do: the emotion has so many ways to go. That’s why we sense when no one else can, I think. It’s a combination without conscious effort.’

‘I’m not even close to following you right now,’ Shoma said with a small, sleepy smile. Yuzuru was patient and entirely unoffended, simply smiling back and nodding.

‘Warriors can sense emotion and energy to a certain extent already, right? They can turn one into the other to move things and generate shields; their own emotions and others’ are always somewhere in their grasp so that they can manipulate that force, even if they don’t really fully process it inside them the way we do. For an Artist they are used to seeing energy and emotion where others see empty space – to transform what is nothing into that which is something, forming images from forces which aren’t tangible. And then Healers, they have their own instinct for emotion and energy in order to know what is damaged, to let their power instinctively sense what it is they are trying to repair and how best to repair it, so in a way they have to always be reaching out, seeking out those places where their powers need to go – that’s probably why your Healer powers come the most naturally to you, you know? Because of how deeply you would care for those in need even if that power wasn’t in you; you naturally reach out anyway.’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘You and me, when we sense, we are doing all those things at once already, without even trying: we are reaching out for the energy and emotion around us, we are interpreting it where others would never know there was anything there to begin with, turning it into something in our heads, and we are using it to tell us something about the environment we find ourselves in, the people we find ourselves with, to seek out something and to help draw us to where we need to be. If we have been doing this our whole lives without once having to decide to, why is it so crazy to think we should see what we can achieve when we put effort behind it and actively try to mix our powers up in other ways?’

 

Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, taking a moment to follow the thought through, chewing absently at his lip and nodding slowly.

‘Ok. But what’s the point? How much can you really do beyond the powers we already have? Surely if we’re already combining them, then that’s the extent of what you can do with these combinations.’ Yuzuru’s smile was almost dangerous as he regarded Shoma for a beat, but Shoma couldn’t bring himself to feel afraid; for all that Yuzuru was unpredictable and untameable, for all that he flew in the face of everything Shoma had ever thought of as safe, he was also incredibly gentle-hearted and accepting. There was something comforting about the way he took everything in stride without faltering. When he looked at Shoma, he made him feel there was nothing he could say to change the fact he was valued, wondered at – he was free to be himself, even if that meant being quiet or sarcastic or exhausted, powerful or lazy or whiney or just plain confused. Yuzuru was delighted by all of it, delighted by Shoma without question or clause; not the sort of delight that ever demanded, but the sort of delight that offered limitless kindness in return. A level playing field of give and take. Shoma looked back at Yuzuru through his eyelashes, letting him skim his eyes over him contemplatively; he didn’t try to look more alert, or hide the gentle curve of his smile. He was just Shoma; that was all Yuzuru wanted of him so that was all he offered him. And he knew for sure now it was enough, in a way he didn’t think he ever had with anyone before who wasn’t in his immediate family.

 

‘You learn practically, right?’ Yuzuru asked at last, and Shoma lifted one shoulder in an idle shrug.

‘I guess,’ he said. Yuzuru pursed his lips, eyes glinting.

‘Then I’ll show you,’ he said simply, scooting a little closer to the water’s edge and glancing back over his shoulder at Shoma hopefully, eyebrows raised in encouragement. Shoma huffed slightly, but there was a smile on his lips as he obliged him, edging himself down to sit beside him. Their elbows bumped together as they resettled and Shoma looked up at Yuzuru with his eyebrows quirked enquiringly. Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him, nodding happily. ‘Ok – so I’m gonna do it first, then you try, right?’

‘You realise my power doesn’t really work to order half the time, don’t you?’ Shoma pointed out. Yuzuru nudged him lightly in reprimand and Shoma shrugged. ‘I’m just saying, you might be disappointed.’

‘I could never be disappointed by you,’ Yuzuru said with conviction, giving Shoma one more shove. They shared a small smile and Shoma looked down, licking at the corner of his lips self-consciously and taking a deep breath.

 

It was subtle, but Shoma could feel the dull thrum of Yuzuru’s power building and it thrilled him slightly, woke him up a little; there was so much possibility contained in every flicker of his energy, so much hope. Anything could happen, when Yuzuru chose to put his mind to something – Shoma wished the people who spent so much time complaining and criticising everything he did could understand just how much strength it took to be everything he was, to always be focused enough to achieve what he achieved. He wished people knew how incredibly rare a human being he was, regardless of his power. ‘You’re staring at me,’ Yuzuru pointed out without looking, offhand and amused as he leant forward a little, concentrating on the water in front of him.

‘What else would I be staring at?’ Shoma shot back, unbothered, and Yuzuru shot him a sly smile, looking at him from the corner of his eye. Shoma widened his eyes at him jokingly. ‘Don’t look so surprised: this is a lesson, I’m ready to learn,’ he said. Yuzuru laughed, rolling his eyes.

‘Fine. Then keep staring: but watch what I do, ok?’ Shoma nodded and Yuzuru nodded back, short and sharp, before turning back to look at the water, his expression sobering a little as he closed his eyes for a beat. ‘You have to focus on something that will help you centre in on an emotion first – sometimes you can just come up with an image, but since we’re trying to get your power to behave itself then maybe we need to go a little harder and reach for a memory. There is always more power in a memory, because there’s more emotion tied to it – there is a lot of power in the wish for something that is gone, you know?’

 

Yuzuru reached out his hand, touching a delicate finger to the surface of the pond like he was pushing at a piano key – instantly the surface seemed to glow and shimmer, and Shoma watched in amazement as the ripples and colours began to bleed together, forming shapes and outlines that shifted and swirled, beginning to create a clearer image. ‘You picture it in your mind and then you make yourself want it, fiercely. Think of it until it’s the only thing you can see. That way you can conjure it, bring it out onto the surface in front of you just like an Artist would.’ Shoma nodded vaguely, still watching the changing surface of the water in fascination; a green, sun-kissed park had appeared out of the depths, children running back and forth, chasing each other through the trees and laughing as leaves blew in the breeze. ‘I think I was five here.’ Shoma’s mouth formed a small “o” and he gasped slightly, looking at the beaming children with fresh understanding. The boy was dashing in giggling circles around a girl who was ever so slightly taller than him, her face an almost perfect copy of his – the same soft, squashed chin and scrunching nose, the same expressive eyes and gangly limbs not yet grown into. Shoma recognised the outline of those features, realised he could still see the traces of that giddy child in the way Yuzuru laughed to this day; he hadn’t lost that exuberant, joyous spirit, even after everything he had been through. ‘That’s my sister chasing me, telling me to go away and stop following her everywhere. She didn’t mean it. She loved that I wanted to be like her.’ Shoma nudged Yuzuru gently with his elbow; he heard the fond ache in his voice and he wanted him to know he understood. ‘I will let you in on a secret, Shoma: if your little brother is following your every move, it is because he sees the person he wants to be in you, because you will always be his reference point for the world, if he admits it or not. You go first to the places he knows he will one day have to go. My sister doesn’t remember this day any longer – but she still remembers that much. It is important to her even now.’

 

Yuzuru took a deep steadying breath, eyes focused once again. Shoma gave him another small nudge and he managed a tiny smile, nodding at Shoma in a gesture that was part recovery and part thanks. ‘Ok, so, we need to turn that into more, right? So the next thing you do is a Warrior power, kind of. You reach out, but you don’t try to move only what’s in front of you, you try to move yourself as well, so you can get close enough to touch what you’re seeing.’

‘You reach in to bring something out from across time – Healer, Artist and Warrior at the same time,’ Shoma nodded. Yuzuru smiled slightly.

‘You’re a quick study, huh?’ he said, raising his eyebrows at Shoma for a moment. Shoma laughed.

‘Probably not as quick as you,’ he dismissed with a wrinkle of his nose. Yuzuru pulled a face then turned his eyes back to the water, watching the scene still playing out over the surface and taking another deep breath.

‘You have to pull. You have to feel like you want nothing more.’

‘Tunnel vision.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘Be stubborn, right?’ Yuzuru stifled a smile, keeping his eyes focused even as he nudged Shoma’s shoulder with his own.

‘ _So_ stubborn. Dig your heels in. Be determined in that way that makes people call you crazy,’ he murmured, fingers dipping down into the water.

 

There was something strangely commanding about the way he twisted his fingers through the image, like he was turning the world in his hands. Shoma shivered a little, peering deep into the water and holding his breath, basking in the rolling waves of Yuzuru’s power filling the space. ‘Then the same way a Healer wants nothing more than to be caught inside that one moment when they hold back time, you have to pull at time until it gives you the second you were looking for,’ Yuzuru whispered, eyes narrowing just a little as the image on the surface of the water grew just a little brighter, the colours suddenly clearer, becoming more real. ‘You don’t just have to cross time, you have to hold it too, so your power has the room to get inside the moment – it’s the emotion makes you want it enough to do it, you know?’ Shoma nodded. ‘Then you pull again. With everything you have.’ Shoma watched Yuzuru’s fingers close around something, so quick and graceful he almost missed it; Yuzuru’s power whooshed in his ears for a second, and then, in a heartbeat, it smoothed out once more and Shoma felt his breath catch at the force of it rising and falling so suddenly. He blinked in surprise, looking up into Yuzuru’s face, and Yuzuru smiled at him, holding out his palm. Lying there in his hand was a small, delicate flower, the same flower Shoma had seen dancing in the breeze of the image on the pond just a moment before. He stared down at it for a second then looked slowly back up to meet Yuzuru’s eyes.

‘You’re going to make me say “wow” again aren’t you,’ he deadpanned. Yuzuru laughed, shaking his head at Shoma, eyes all danger and glee again.

‘No. I think it’s your turn to show me something now, actually.’

 

Shoma huffed, giving Yuzuru an annoyed half smile.

‘You know, if you’d ever met someone better than you at anything? You would realise how much of a nightmare this is,’ he groaned. Yuzuru smacked his arm.

‘People are better than me at plenty of stuff.’ He shrugged. ‘Just touch the water, see what your power thinks you can do,’ he added then, his voice lowering almost to a whisper. A secret within a secret – a moment so very much their own that Yuzuru wouldn’t even allow the butterflies to share it with them. Shoma swallowed and took a steadying breath.

 

He turned his eyes down to the water, which was quiet again now, only the reflection of the conjured stars and the swaying trees skimming across its surface. Yuzuru’s magic was intense, captivating – but Shoma knew he was capable of things just as wild. He didn’t doubt the strength of his own power, what he doubted was its direction. He reached his hand out, touching a tentative fingertip to the surface, his brows drawing together in a mixture of concentration and concern. For a beat there was nothing – and then the whole surface of the pond shimmered, bright, blinding gold, intense but without control, glowing, swirling then fading quickly out. He withdrew his hand sharply, sighing in frustration and looking over at Yuzuru with a half-hearted glare.

‘See: on command isn’t my thing,’ he said, shrugging. Yuzuru smiled at him indulgently.

‘Ok.’ He shrugged. ‘So give up.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him and Yuzuru’s smile twisted menacingly as he arched an eyebrow. ‘Or…reach out again. Be stubborn.’ He tipped his head, leaning in towards Shoma with impish challenge. Shoma tried to keep his lips in an unimpressed line, but he couldn’t hide the slight smile from his eyes.

‘You’re daring me,’ he stated, almost laughing despite himself. Yuzuru shrugged, entirely too pleased with himself, and Shoma sighed.

 

For a moment he looked back at the water, trying to clear his head and steady his breathing. He felt Yuzuru shift a little nearer to him, so they were pressed close. He leant in behind him, his chest touching Shoma’s shoulder as he placed a gentle fingertip to the back of his neck.

‘You focus. And you breathe slow. And when you’re ready? Let all your power flow out. Act like you’re making a wish; that will help you direct it.’ His breath tickled at Shoma’s ear, his voice the very faintest of whispers. ‘You were built for incredible things. Trust that.’

 

Yuzuru knew how to unlock Shoma; though less like someone with a key and more like a determined burglar jiggling a hairpin in the slot relentlessly until finally something went click. He rattled around inside Shoma’s ribcage, sending sparks flying everywhere. It was daunting. And it was brilliant. This time Shoma reached out without hesitation, touching his fingers to the water the way Yuzuru had before. He felt Yuzuru flatten his hand out against his back with welcome pressure – it strengthened his resolve, smoothed over the few remaining cracks. In a heartbeat, the surface of the water was shimmering again, only this time the gold began to swirl into silvers and pinks and greens, bleeding one into the other and spiralling back out again until eventually they started to form a picture.

 

Yuzuru dipped his head. Shoma could feel him pressing at his back again, could feel his chin digging into his shoulder. ‘Shoma, you are magic,’ he murmured, like this was a revelation, and Shoma didn’t need to look up from the picture to know Yuzuru was smiling: he could feel it, was sure he would be able to feel it whether he had a power that allowed him to sense things or not.

‘That’s maybe the nicest “I told you so” anyone has ever given me,’ Shoma whispered absently, enjoying the vibration of Yuzuru’s laugh against his back.

 

The picture in the water came into focus slowly, but when it finally settled the clarity was startling – brighter and more real even than the image Yuzuru had summoned.

‘When was this?’ Yuzuru asked, quietening back to an awed murmur. Shoma smiled distantly, eyes following the two children in the shimmering image before them.

‘I think I was eight, maybe?’ He laughed self-consciously. ‘I know I look four, don’t rub it in,’ he added then, flicking the briefest of glances over his shoulder at Yuzuru, whose face was all amusement and affection. ‘The one trying to kill me is my little brother,’ he added then, looking back at the image again just in time to see Itsuki get a whack to the head with the cushion Shoma’s younger self had managed to wrestle from his grasp.

‘You gave as good as you got, I see,’ Yuzuru remarked.

‘Always,’ Shoma remarked with a sly grin.

 

In the image he and his brother were a tangle of limbs, complaining at each other through laughter, the cushion being bounced off a face and then snatched back and thumped onto a shoulder. ‘I’d had the worst day. I know it doesn’t look like it here but…it was horrible. Nothing had gone right and I’d fallen out with my friends and school was awful and it all just hit at once. I was convinced my whole life was probably going to be a giant mess forever because of this one day – it sounds so dumb now, but…it was a _really_ crappy day, you know?’ Shoma pulled a face. ‘Itsuki doesn’t have powers. Just the power to annoy the hell out of me…and to always have my back even when I don’t realise I need it.’ Yuzuru hummed, soft and sweet. ‘But he’s probably the best Healer on the planet when it comes to me: he puts up with all my chaos and he just takes it in stride. He takes everything in stride, no matter what I throw at him. And when I decide all I want to do is shut down, he always knows how to change my mind.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘This was probably the first time I realised it, though. I don’t know how he knew how to cheer me up, but he did.’ The Itsuki and Shoma of the image were lying half across each other, breathless and still laughing, nudging each other slightly, the cushion discarded. Shoma smiled fondly. ‘I can’t even remember the details of what had made the day so bad, you know? I just remember this. Laughing with him. Realising that…even when everything else went to hell, I would always still have him, that nothing would ever convince him to give up on me.’

 

The two of them watched in silence for a moment as the young Itsuki clambered over Shoma and flopped down beside him, throwing small arms around small shoulders and hugging him close and fierce. It occurred to Shoma that, besides Itsuki, he had never shared this memory with anyone. But it didn’t feel strange, to share it with Yuzuru. It came to Shoma as naturally as everything else did around him.

 

‘Now, Shoma,’ Yuzuru said into the quiet, rubbing his back lightly. Shoma didn’t need to ask what he meant, he simply nodded and reached out again, dipping his fingers back into the water. His breath caught slightly as his fingers twisted deep into the image; it was home, he could feel it. Shoma smiled as he stretched out his hand, deeper and deeper into the image before him, closing his fingers cautiously around something just peeking out from under the corner of the bed. And then, just like Yuzuru had shown him before, he pulled, with everything he had.

 

When he looked down at what was in his hands, Shoma couldn’t help but let out a small, surprised little laugh, the sound high and vaguely embarrassed as it came from somewhere in the very back of his throat. It was a floppy-limbed, tatty-eared bear, worn smooth on its back, one arm sunken in where the stuffing had shifted, a long-forgotten relic of his childhood that he thought had been thrown away well before the memory in the image. Shoma had never really been one for carrying a toy around everywhere, but the floppy-legged bear had sat in his bedroom for as long as he could remember and it had made a good pillow, back when he was still small enough that it was almost half his height and he could lie across it in full-bodied exhaustion after a long day of running around giving his parents headaches. ‘An old friend of yours?’ Yuzuru enquired, mischievous but not cruel with it, and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘A friend who never gave me power lectures at midnight,’ he said without missing a beat, and Yuzuru laughed, nodding by way of a surrender.

‘I have a similar friend up in my room. A good listener, but terrible for conversation,’ he said, nudging Shoma’s shoulder playfully. Shoma looked up at him with his eyebrows slightly drawn together in surprise. The boy who was going to save the world took comfort in stuffed animals: it occurred to Shoma, dimly, that there were an alarming number of headlines which could probably have been made with that piece of information, and yet Yuzuru had given it to him without a hint of hesitation. Another piece of trust not to be taken for granted.

‘I haven’t seen this thing in so long I’d almost forgotten about it – it went missing, I just assumed it got shoved in a box with everything else Itsuki and me ever stopped playing with.’ Shoma looked down at the bear in his hands, smiling slightly as he caught a waft of home when its arms swished down as he moved it.

‘No, definitely not put away. You just kidnapped your own bear through time, that’s all,’ Yuzuru shrugged, maddeningly matter-of-fact. Shoma looked up at him, startled, and Yuzuru smiled back knowingly. ‘You see, the way the movement of time works is that-’ Shoma quickly held up a hand, waving it in a dismissive gesture as he shook his head, cutting Yuzuru off sharply and briefly burying his face against the stuffed bear in his hands

‘Please don’t. You’ve already given me enough of a headache for one night,’ he let out with a slight whine to his tone. Yuzuru closed his mouth, trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

 

Shoma lifted his head and let out a long sigh, the exertion of concentrating so hard on his power suddenly catching up to him. He pushed himself back from the water’s edge slightly, flopping down onto his back with a little huff. For a moment he stared up at Yuzuru’s sky in silence; the colour had darkened to a blue so deep it was almost velvet, and the stars winked down at him the same way the starbursts danced in Yuzuru’s eyes when he listened to Shoma talk. The moon was the main source of their light now, and though its glow was pale, strangely the garden still seemed golden. He glanced across at where Yuzuru was sitting, head resting on his knees again, gazing down at Shoma with unguarded fondness. ‘If you ever tell my brother I conjured our ratty old bear with my power, I will kill you and hide the body, Hanyu. That’s a promise not a threat.’

‘People would notice I was gone, I think,’ Yuzuru said lightly and Shoma smirked.

‘True. But you said it yourself: I’m clever. I’m sure I can come up with some plausible excuse for why you’re not around,’ he told him. Yuzuru laughed, lying down beside Shoma with a sleepy, contented hum. His hair fell back from his forehead, opening up his face to the light and making him suddenly seem younger than his age – innocent and a long way from home.

‘It’s ok, though: I would never tell your brother. I mean, I know how little brothers can be, right?’ he said, shooting Shoma a sidelong glance, his lips curving up into a smirk.

‘Urgh.’ Shoma pulled a face at him. ‘Nothing is worse than the baby of a family: so spoilt and whiney. People let them get away with everything,’ he said, eyes dancing. Yuzuru laughed again, placing a hand to his chest to try and stifle the sound, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile at him for it, shaking his head slightly. ‘Brats. All of them,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, but didn’t anyone ever tell you: the second draft is always better than the first,’ Yuzuru declared, grinning. Shoma groaned.

‘Please, you sound exactly like Itsuki – do you guys all go to meetings on how to be the absolute worst or something?’ he pouted, kicking out at Yuzuru’s shin and laughing when he kicked back. ‘Stop wriggling – you’re the grown-up here.’

‘Does being twenty-three whole years old make you grown up enough to let people attack you for no reason?!’

‘Well it should,’ Shoma protested playfully, and Yuzuru laughed as Shoma rolled away from another one of his kicks. ‘I will end you if you don’t calm down already – it’s so late it’s come back around to being early, how are you so wide awake?’ he asked through a laugh of his own, taking a moment to catch his breath, and Yuzuru smiled at him brightly.

‘I’m just really good at going on no sleep,’ he shrugged casually.

‘You should not be so proud of that.’

 

The two of them fell quiet again, both letting their breathing even out and the ragged edges of their mischievous smiles smooth over into something more peaceful. Shoma turned his eyes back upwards to the blanket of stars above them, watching the perfect, pillowy clouds drift by. ‘My brother is a pain. But I do feel lost without him sometimes, you know? He’s been like my shadow ever since he could walk. And he’s always on my side even when we both know I’m wrong. We look out for each other like that: like we’re equals more than younger and older, I guess. We’ve always been each other’s best friends, even in the middle of the biggest fights. And…it’s not like we even fight that much. We just complain about each other ‘til one of us breaks down and can’t keep a straight face any longer.’

‘You miss him,’ Yuzuru stated gently. Shoma closed his eyes, nodding, and Yuzuru reached out to give his hand a squeeze. ‘That’s why you chose that memory – why the image was so clear. The power of the emotion was so strong. You feel deeply in all things, and when he is involved it is even stronger.’ Shoma swallowed, focusing in on the feeling of Yuzuru’s long, bony fingers closing around his hand, surprisingly rough, but tender in a way that made Shoma feel lighter.

 

‘Me and him, we don’t have secrets,’ Shoma said, opening his eyes to look up at Yuzuru. ‘Before you, I never told anyone else but him about my power.’ Yuzuru turned his head, shifting his weight a little to look at Shoma more clearly. There was a calm warmth in the rich brown depths of his eyes as he offered Shoma the very faintest of smiles.

‘Technically, you still haven’t told me; not in as many words anyway,’ he pointed out, pursing his lips and raising one eyebrow, vaguely teasing yet somehow kind with it. Shoma pulled a face, a smile in his eyes as he glanced away.

‘If it makes you feel any better? I kind of…didn’t _tell_ Itsuki either. Not exactly.’ Shoma sighed, stifling a yawn. ‘He was _so_ young I don’t know how he even remembers, but he swears he does – he had some nightmare and he was so scared. I woke up because he was crying – which he denies, but, I know he was because that’s kind of what…’ Shoma shrugged, gesturing vaguely with one hand, and Yuzuru smiled encouragingly, eyebrows raised.

‘Kind of what…set you off, maybe?’ he suggested. Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘That sounds so stupid but…yeah, pretty much,’ he huffed. ‘All I wanted was for there to be light, because the dark seemed to be scaring him so much – the next thing I know our whole room is full of stars and they didn’t disappear until he fell back asleep next to me.’

‘Was that the first time you realised?’

‘Maybe. I knew…I knew my power didn’t act the way it was supposed to, the way my parents and teachers all said it should. I thought maybe I was sensing things but I wasn’t sure it meant anything, I wasn’t sure it was something other people didn’t feel too. But until that night, I could always just ignore it all. After, though…my power started getting ideas of its own. A lot.’ Shoma looked at Yuzuru again, and he smiled, understanding and warm.

‘That’s kind of adorable,’ he said, his voice teasing but his eyes still knowing, and Shoma elbowed him lightly in his side.

‘Shut up.’

‘Never.’ Shoma shot him a pout and Yuzuru suppressed a smile, turning his eyes back up to the moon. ‘Do your parents know?’ he asked him then, and Shoma shook his head.

‘They probably suspect. Itsuki and me aren’t exactly slick at covering up our messes at the best of times but…’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe they just get why I’d rather hide it. I think they want to not deal with it for the same reasons I don’t want to. They know what it would mean, and they don’t want me to end up-’

‘Like me?’ Yuzuru suggested, painfully soft. Shoma looked up at him sharply, squeezing his hand tight.

‘Yuzu, that’s not-’ he began, but Yuzuru cut him off with a shake of his head.

‘It’s ok,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t blame them, for thinking that way. They’re your parents – they want to protect you. My parents sometimes wished they’d done more to stop things getting so out of control; I hated that I made them worry so much. Even before the Grey Zones.’ Shoma looked at him with sad, dark eyes, letting out a small sound of sympathy that brought Yuzuru’s gaze back to him immediately. ‘It was so crazy, right from the beginning. People wanted to analyse me to see if it was something in my head, or they wanted to see me use my powers so they could study me or prove I was faking it somehow – people came to do tests on me over and over and my family didn’t always get so much say in whether or not it was ok. Things just happened. I saw so many hospitals and microphones and needles and clipboards and machines and cameras – always with the cameras. It was endless – for them just as much as me. I think they were almost relieved when the Foundation invited me here, because they knew that that wasn’t how I would be treated any more, that Brian would protect me from it and let me do things my own way, let me learn in my own time. Brian took me away from all of that stuff, and for that I owe him so much; he still gets requests from scientists and researchers outside the Foundation all the time. And the press. And even governments sometimes, when they think maybe some problem can be solved if I just throw enough power behind it. There’s always someone thinking they can stick me with some needle and suddenly disprove everything I am with it. Or just prove that I really am the answer maybe – who even knows what these people want to discover. Brian turns more down than he ever tells me about; even things which could get us funding, projects backed by important people who don’t want to just let the Foundation choose how they spend their money.’

 

Yuzuru closed his eyes and swallowed; Shoma watched the shifting muscles of his long neck and the tightness of his breathing with concern. ‘I worry sometimes that the Foundation loses out on so much money because of me – because Brian is trying to look out for me instead of looking out for everyone.’ Shoma squeezed his hand with ferocity at that, and Yuzuru looked over at him instantly, eyes sad but hopeful.

‘Yuzu,’ Shoma said, firm and low and full of feeling. ‘Looking out for you _is_ looking out for everyone. And there is _no one_ who should be made to go through all that testing and questioning and calculation – no one’s humanity should be reduced to test tubes and decimal points.’

‘But maybe mine should,’ Yuzuru whispered roughly, his voice thin. ‘Maybe I have to justify the fact I exist – since everything people understood before me told them I shouldn’t exist at all, since I’ve chased after that power all my life without stopping to question it.’ Shoma’s features furrowed into a frown and he shook his head, still squeezing Yuzuru’s hand tightly in his own.

‘You don’t have to justify anything, Yuzu.’ Yuzuru’s eyes were wide and expectant and Shoma offered him a calm, quiet smile. ‘You are your own justification. You _are_. You _do_ exist. The universe put you here already. It’s not anyone else’s place to cheapen it. The miracle happened and it can’t be taken back. No one should want to try to – you’ve said it yourself: miracles should be appreciated. Magic isn’t magic anymore when you start trying to look behind the curtain and figure out how the trick works. Those people should think about that before they waste time chasing after answers for something which has given so many people so much hope. That hope is justification, if justification was even needed at all.’

 

Shoma let go of Yuzuru’s hand, tentatively brushing his finger along his cheek; Yuzuru’s lips parted slightly, his breath catching, and Shoma’s eyes traced the lines of his face thoughtfully. ‘I can feel you; I can feel you almost all the time. If anyone should know for sure that what you are is enough, it’s me, right? So trust me. You’re enough. No justifications required. Do you trust me?’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched slightly at the corner and he gave Shoma a small nod, his eyes sliding closed as he blew out a breath.

‘More than anyone else: I trust you, I trust the words you have to say.’

 

Shoma let his fingers fall away from Yuzuru’s face; he took a moment to look at him, more vulnerable now than ever, and he smiled slightly. It was such an expressive face, and just like the rest of him, it was always working, always moving and restless. But in that moment not a single muscle there was tensed. His hair had fallen back across his forehead, his dark fringe criss-crossing in a messy sweep of black; he was smudged and rubbed out and redrawn a hundred times and there was something gorgeous about that, something brilliant and untidy. Shoma shook his head slightly, closing his own eyes and taking a deep breath. He could swear he could just make out the faint sound of crickets somewhere out in the garden around them and he wanted to laugh – because if anyone was going to think to conjure crickets in a secret garden no one but them even knew about, of course it would be Yuzuru.

 

In the sanctuary of the garden, Shoma felt his mind quieten in a way it never usually did at night; his body felt heavy and calm, and even the sensation of Yuzuru’s power so very close beside him became a comfort, a blanket of humming warmth. He balanced on the brink of sleep, listening to the sound of Yuzuru’s breathing, steady and even beside him, and wondered if this moment could be part of some cosmic plan or if the particles that made up the atmosphere of the universe had just thrown them together at random, brilliant happenstance drawing them to each other so artfully it could’ve been mistaken for some grand design.

 

‘There was a girl who came from my hometown with the power to make it rain petals when she smiled.’ Shoma wasn’t sure how far the quiet between them had stretched, whether or not he had actually drifted off for a moment or two, but strangely the sound of Yuzuru’s voice was so familiar to him now that it didn’t startle him when he interrupted the silence. Instead he simply tilted his head towards the sound, letting out a small huff of breath that he hoped would encourage Yuzuru to keep talking, because Shoma was slowly getting addicted to the sound of his stories. ‘She was beautiful and kind, and people were amazed by her power; she used to travel all across the world conjuring cherry blossoms and chrysanthemums in areas where people hardly had the opportunity to see nature at all. When she returned she would practice in a park not far away from where we lived, and I would beg my mother to take me to watch her. I loved to see how easily she could breathe out her magic – to appreciate the goodness with which she used that gift.’ Yuzuru broke off for a moment and Shoma nudged him slightly with his elbow, just to let him know he was still listening. ‘I was never content to simply watch, even when I was small; I see challenges sometimes where I shouldn’t. And maybe I saw a challenge in her, in the way she would open her arms and call things to her – I could heal cuts and bruises and make time skip, but I was tired of only working with things that were incomplete. I wanted more. I wanted the spring breeze I sensed in her. I wanted to start with nothing and make it everything. I wanted to make it rain petals; make a storm of colour that was all mine.’

‘You did what you always do: you threw yourself in because you thought there was a chance you might be able give something more to the world. You did it because you knew, deep down, you could. Right?’ Shoma mumbled sleepily. Yuzuru made a small sound of agreement, pausing a moment, and Shoma opened his eyes curiously, regarding him from under heavy lids. ‘Yuzu?’

‘I did…I did know, I think. I knew I could. I knew I had it inside me. I sensed what was in her and I knew I had something more than that. So I willed it and willed it. And eventually? It rained petals all across the park. For a week.’

 

There was a wistful smile in his voice, but Shoma could still see a sadness in Yuzuru’s face and he reached his hand out towards him, hooking their little fingers together. Yuzuru lifted his tired eyes, meeting Shoma’s immediately. ‘It didn’t take people long to piece together that it was me; when they did, my life changed forever overnight. I got what I wanted. And then I found out there was a price.’ He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. ‘I don’t regret it. But I do sometimes think: where did my stubbornness get me, in the end?’ Shoma knocked his knuckles against Yuzuru’s reproachfully.

‘It got you here,’ he pointed out softly. ‘It’s not the worst place to be, I don’t think.’

‘No.’ Yuzuru smiled lopsidedly and Shoma smiled back at him, sleepy but genuine. ‘Right now, it’s the only place I would want to be.’ Shoma closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh of agreement, too tired to keep up any defences.

‘So what happened to the girl? Didn’t she come to the Foundation too once the Grey Zones started to appear?’ Yuzuru shook his head.

‘She was asked but she wouldn’t come: she wanted to stay in Japan and work with charities there. She goes from place to place, reminding people there is still beauty in the world. Whenever we meet we tell each other the same thing: one day we will both go back and together we will make it rain petals there again. In every colour imaginable.’

 

Shoma played absently with their joined hands, looking down at them thoughtfully; Yuzuru’s fingers were dry but pretty, long and strangely graceful next to his own. Hands that had summoned petals and blossoms and wildflowers. Hands that had prickled with lightening. Hands which could reach out through time with purpose and feeling. And now they were tangled with his, gentle and placid, letting Shoma’s shorter, softer fingers trace along them, link with them, wrap round them and repeat the motion. It was something more tangible than power; something more vulnerable too. There was nothing more honest than touch: you couldn’t tell lies with fingerprints, you couldn’t break promises with the press of a palm. He’d found him – the Yuzuru underneath the lightning. In the peace of a garden that breathed with magic, their powers hardly mattered at all. The boy in the park summoning storms of petals because he was sure he could, and the boy who made a constellation on his bedroom ceiling because he didn’t know half of what he was capable of; here they became just two people who missed their families and liked each other’s stories, keeping each other company for a while. Yuzuru wasn’t an unknown quantity to Shoma anymore, and in the garden there were no borders – everything was his to reach out for.

 

‘How close did it come that day when you went back to your hometown?’ he asked in a hushed tone. ‘When you were in the Grey Zone there – how close to the edge of the world did you go?’ He needed to know, even if the answer scared him. He needed to know how close it came to Yuzuru never making it back here at all – never creating this place, never knowing Shoma or summoning lightning ever again. Yuzuru let out the softest of sighs, making no effort to hide the shake in his breath.

‘The Snatchers were so desperate they would’ve descended on a dash of paint,’ he whispered.

‘And you were like a firework,’ Shoma said. Yuzuru closed his eyes and swallowed; Shoma waited patiently for him to put himself together again, saw the moment the muscles in his face shifted.

‘It’s like breathing in a million tiny shards of glass. All you can hear is white noise – like you tuned the radio to the wrong frequency and it won’t go back.’ He looked over at Shoma then; his eyes were dark and sad and mystifying. Shoma looked back, determined. ‘There is nothing inside them, Shoma. All you can feel is…nothing. Like you’re a flame and they’re snuffing you out by sucking the oxygen out of the air.’ His forehead pinched into a small frown, his eyes turning glassy with unshed tears. ‘I think they’re snuffing out the whole world’s flame, little by little. Stifling it: the hopes and the dreams and the colours, they’re the world’s oxygen and The Snatchers are taking them away. And I don’t know what they’re getting out of it…because they don’t feel anything except lonely. They’re just…a hole in the fabric of the universe. And there is absolutely nothing there to latch on to. Nothing to be recognised or known.’ Shoma’s chest felt tight, something nervous fluttering beneath the surface. ‘Their touch is like asphalt. It’s like a graze over your whole skin. It gets inside you. Your whole being gets rubbed raw and you reach out for your power but it’s blunt, because you can’t think clearly. It’s too still inside, too dry and hopeless. And you can’t feel _anything._ Not even fear.’

‘You still have the scars, don’t you.’ Shoma heard the hitch in his own voice and he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. ‘The others don’t realise, because they can’t see – but inside, there are still grazes. Places where they tried to drag the light from out of you.’

‘Cuts and bruises heal. But nothing on the inside of you can ever be forgotten.’

‘How close, Yuzuru?’ Shoma repeated, firm but quiet. Yuzuru bit his lip.

‘You can’t use power against them, you know? Not directly. It just gets swallowed whole inside their void – out into the nothing. They don’t have breath. They don’t really even have faces. It’s hard to work out where the pain is coming from when they grab you, even if they’re holding you hard enough for it to bruise – everything hurts but nothing feels real. But they can reach in deep; you don’t realise it until the ice is inside you already, until you’re shivering and you can’t breathe because their grip is so tight in your chest that everything inside is frozen and your ribs won’t move anymore.’

‘ _Yuzu,_ tell me what happened. You have to tell someone: tell me.’

‘I wanted to fight, but it was so hard to, and I wasn’t sure where to begin.’ He sniffed, smiling tragically thin. ‘I can make a thunderstorm in my sleep, though. And I think anything bright and shiny maybe distracts them; they have to look, they have to try and pull it in, they can’t resist. I needed something to buy me enough room to catch my breath, just a little – something I could reach for without trying. Lightning seemed like the obvious answer. I could only manage a little but it was all I had – they had me so tight and dizzy that I could hardly feel my own power at all, never mind unleash it. But it was enough; they dropped me to the floor so quickly I hit my head on the pavement pretty hard, and even though everything hurt I threw every ounce of energy I could find out into the air around me, because it was the only defence I had. Everything in a Grey Zone takes twice as long as it would outside, though – it’s like you’re trying to walk underwater. I wasn’t fast enough: I could feel their hands on my arms again and I wanted to pass out. I wanted to scream but I couldn’t make a sound. It sounds crazy but…I was saved by a fluke of my own lightning. A spark caught fire – because everything was so dry – and they reeled back like it was the first time they’d seen flames. I was choking and all I could see was burning; even fire is milky and washed out in a Grey Zone, but somehow that just makes the heat more intense, overwhelming. But behind me I could feel their shadows moving, waiting for me to give up and black out from the smoke. So I had no choice: I ran through the fire. Everything stung and my lungs felt like ash, but I didn’t stop running until I got to the Grey Zone’s edge. I don’t remember Brian finding me. Or the journey home. I don’t even know if it was the bang to the head or the smoke or something else that got to me in the end. The next thing I knew I was back at the Foundation and they had already been healing me for a week.’ Yuzuru swallowed hard, his face pale and drawn taut. ‘Tracy was crying,’ he said brokenly. ‘That’s the only way I can try and judge how close it was.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, glancing over at Shoma sadly when he opened them again. ‘I’d never seen her cry before. And it hasn’t happened since.’

 

Silently, Shoma turned, pillowing his head on one arm and reaching out with the other; Yuzuru watched him with a patient, hopeful sort of calm, making no effort to pull away or hide the devastation from his eyes.

‘No one asked, did they? No one could face the question and you didn’t want to burden them with the answer,’ he said softly. Yuzuru shook his head almost imperceptibly. ‘It has been so cold where you are for so long. And I’m sorry for it – I know it wasn’t something I did or anything I could have stopped. But I’m sorry anyway.’ He touched his finger somewhat dazedly to Yuzuru’s cheek, traced his jawline down to his chin, studied the warm tone of his skin beneath the misty gold light of the conjured sky and the way the muscles of his face lost all their tension as he let out a breath and closed his eyes. ‘I wish it hadn’t happened to you. I wish it hadn’t happened at all. I wish there were no Grey Zones and that no one ever doubted the magic of you. I wish I could take it away. Or feel it for you. I wish I had answers instead of messy powers and useless stories.’ He moved his hand carefully, placing it over Yuzuru’s heart, flattening his palm against his chest and taking a moment to close his eyes, to feel his heart beating. Constant. Steady. Close. ‘But it got you here, at least. And for that, I’m not sorry. So I guess all that’s left…is to wish you would just let the sun inside again.’

 

Shoma hadn’t intended it as a spell; it had been part confession and part apology, something meant only to show he had heard what Yuzuru had been trying to tell him, had listened even to the parts he didn’t say. But his power had always had a tendency to centre itself the most on the things he thought about deeply; he could feel it rising up from somewhere hidden inside him, could feel where its edges began to bleed into the rumbling clouds of Yuzuru’s own power, pushing through and seeping in like day breaking after a thunderous night. Sleepily, groggily, he opened his eyes, looking up at Yuzuru slowly, his lips parting and his eyebrows drawing together as the space between his palm and Yuzuru’s chest glowed gold. And Yuzuru’s eyes fluttered open too, meeting Shoma’s immediately. He took a shivering breath and Shoma swore he could see the sunrise in his eyes, could see flecks of amber in those dark, expressive depths.

 

After a moment the glow subsided and Shoma slowly drew back his hand, curling it back against himself with a soft whimper, suddenly exhausted. This time it was Yuzuru who reached out, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind Shoma’s ear tenderly and letting him collapse into the crook of his neck; his touch was soothing and Shoma let his eyes fall closed, let his limbs grow a little heavier as he sank back against the grass. Yuzuru’s skin was warm and he smelt like bergamot and jasmine; soothing and safe.

‘You should sleep, Shoma,’ Yuzuru told him, his voice a sweet whisper. ‘You can take so much more than most, but you are still human and you need to rest.’ Shoma yawned, sighed, felt his eyelids sliding more tightly shut, his lashes catching against Yuzuru’s skin. ‘And I have let the sun in, Shoma’ Yuzuru said more quietly, almost to himself. ‘I let in the sun the moment I let you in.’ Shoma was dimly aware of his arm bumping against him slightly as he shifted a little closer. ‘I meant what I said: nothing on the inside can ever be forgotten. And you left gold there, on the edges of my fractures, in the places no one else dared know existed. That is something which can never be lost. Something I will hold on to the next time I find myself in the dark.’

 

Shoma woke up the next morning alone in his room, muzzy-headed and confused. He was about to dismiss it all as a dream, to swallow down the disappointment that his imagination had run wild and given him something which could never have hoped to be real – secrets and confidences and butterflies, cherry blossom and memories and scars mapped out in gold. But that was when he caught sight of it: the bear propped up on the bedside table and the smattering of blossom petals on the carpet. His heart rose up into his throat and for a moment he hardly dared breathe: there was a jacket draped around his shoulders which wasn’t his own, three badges down one sleeve and grass-stains on its elbows, the scent of bergamot lingering at the collar. Shoma wet his dry lips and bit down in an effort to force back his smile. There was the smell of peaches and fresh cut grass still lingering in his room like a song, incongruously crisp in the stale morning air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter, and, as always, thank you so very much for reading, taking the time to comment and all that other wonderful stuff: you’re all the best & I hope to have more for you soon!


	4. Can You Hear The Soldiers Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I need to keep apologising for my word count or should I just keep my head down and hope you haven’t noticed I am useless at reining myself in? Anyway! I will keep saying this over and over, but I will never mean it any less: thank you to every single one of you, whether you have commented with two words or two paragraphs, whether you’ve shared your theories or left kudos, I can’t even begin to tell you how much it helps me to keep writing even when I start doubting and thinking I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing, which happens...kind of a lot, but you guys have got me through it and it means the world to me. If you would like to get into Shoma and Yuzuru’s heads for this chapter, most of it was written with these songs on repeat: Porcelain – Lucy Schwartz, And Then You – Greg Laswell, I Am Strong – Polly Scattergood, Collide – Howie Day, Further To Fall – Trembling Blue Stars and Will You Be There For Me – Take That. I hope you enjoy? The story not the songs, but feel free to enjoy both if you like :)

The words on the page in front of Shoma were starting to blur into each other and he yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. He glanced down at the word count on his screen and let out a whiney huff, dramatically dropping his head down onto his folded arms. He lay still for a moment, listening to the flutter of the breeze rustling the trees around him and the sound of his own breathing; he could feel his limbs growing pleasantly heavy and his mind becoming gloriously blank. Then, somewhere at the edges of his awareness, a short, sharp shock appeared out of the darkness: an electric flick to the inside of his skull that made him jump, his eyes opening immediately as the feeling reverberated through his body. He yelped softly, lifting his head to send a glare back towards the culprit, who was sitting behind him, not even looking up from his work.

‘Unnecessary,’ Shoma complained, eyes still half-closed and hair falling across his face messily, and Yuzuru finally glanced up from the notes he had been studying; he was suppressing a smile, and there was something twinkling and bright in his eyes that made Shoma have to fight back a smile of his own.

 

Yuzuru tapped the end of his pen innocently against his lips, one eyebrow quirking. He was sitting just behind where Shoma was lying, his back leaning against the trunk of one of the larger trees in the garden, their chosen spot for the night as they whiled away the transition from Saturday to Sunday in companionable quiet, both catching up on projects and university work beneath the garden’s midnight sun. Yuzuru’s laptop was open beside him, a selection of highlighters, papers and notebooks fanned out on the grass around him in neat rows and stacks – he looked annoyingly serene and studious, as though it wasn’t after midnight on a Saturday and he hadn’t been just as frustrated by his work an hour ago as Shoma was now.

‘Hey, you need to finish your coursework by Monday, right?’ Yuzuru asked Shoma, shrugging brightly, and Shoma let out a groan that was part-agreement and part-irritation. Yuzuru smiled slyly. ‘You can thank me later,’ he added, his voice saccharine and teasing, and Shoma groaned again, flopping back down, his arms splaying out so his face was half-buried in the grass. ‘Sho, you’re going to suffocate if you stay like that,’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘Good,’ Shoma mumbled. ‘Then I will have a legitimate excuse for not handing in my coursework.’ Yuzuru let out an undignified snort that made Shoma want to hug him and kick him at the same time.

‘Except that I could heal you before it got that far…’ Yuzuru pointed out, his voice sing-song and playful, and Shoma grumbled into the grass, reaching out blindly with his foot in an attempt to kick him.

‘No. Leave me here to suffocate in the grass like a true friend and never think about me ever again,’ Shoma declared, grim and melodramatic even as Yuzuru continued to laugh at him. ‘I’m dropping out and going to live on the moon and you can’t stop me.’ Yuzuru hummed.

‘Oh, good: a plan with no flaws then,’ he remarked lightly and Shoma rolled over onto his back, shooting Yuzuru a lazy glare.

‘I know you’re mocking me, I just don’t have the energy to care anymore,’ he sighed, throwing an arm over his face to protect his eyes from the glare of the magical sun above.

 

Dimly, in the back of his mind, Shoma wondered if there were better ways to be spending this time on a Saturday night; most people had been making plans to let loose in some way or another, movie nights and drinks and dancing, sleepovers and trips to restaurants, bowling or the arcade. But Shoma had turned them all down, mumbling about coursework and hoping no one noticed the knowing look Yuzuru shot his way from across the room. The two of them had become each other’s enablers for procrastinating on finishing papers and for ducking out of social engagements, always ready to provide the distraction of idle jokes and rambling stories, or the pleasant thrill of spending hours on end without once being required to even speak. The garden was their playground – Yuzuru’s escape hatch from the world which he had held open just long enough to let Shoma come through with him and out into the freedom of not needing to be anything at all other than himself. Shoma didn’t live for his midnights with Yuzuru, he liked the friends he’d made and he found sessions and lectures an interesting enough distraction from how far he was from home, but when he reached his limit and needed to recharge, it was Yuzuru he would seek out – whether with his eyes or a hand or simply just his power, there was always an unspoken understanding between them that they didn’t share with anyone else. The routine of the Foundation had its own comforts, and yet every night Shoma found that midnight came like a long-held breath finally being let out. He never much minded what they did; if they talked intensely about power and colours, or simply played games, if they dug at each other relentlessly until they both fell about laughing or sat side by side in total silence studying and listening to music. Sometimes they would lay out on the grass under the conjured stars, sharing stories and confessing secrets into the quiet without any real rhyme or reason to the pathways the exchanges took. Yuzuru liked to make up crazy names for every constellation in his sky, seeing how far he could push it before Shoma would finally admit he wasn’t asleep, giggling and jostling with him until the moment passed. Almost every night Shoma fell asleep to the sound of Yuzuru wishing him goodnight in a kind, hushed whisper, and every morning he would wake up back in his room, trying to figure out when it was Yuzuru had started to feel as familiar as home.

 

There was something strangely pleasing in the normalcy of finding himself scrambling at some godforsaken hour to get his university work completed on time before another week began, and, for all Yuzuru’s prodding, Shoma couldn’t bring himself to feel stressed over his lack of progress in that moment. Not when he was in the garden; worries never seemed to touch him under Yuzuru’s conjured sky, and when they did he was able to think more clearly than he could anywhere else, dispelling them with logic and deep breaths and Yuzuru’s laughter. He’d get his work finished – he always did. For now he just wanted to enjoy the breezy calm beneath the shade of the garden’s tallest tree, the sound of Yuzuru’s pen scratching along the page and the tap of his fingers against the edge of his laptop as he paused to check something on the screen.

 

‘What time is it?’ Shoma asked Yuzuru through a yawn, peeking out at him from under his elbow.

‘Half-one,’ Yuzuru replied without looking up. ‘You managed twenty minutes of pouting at your notes before giving up – I think that’s your record,’ he added, glancing across briefly, his smile a fond, pink curve. ‘At this rate you might even manage a paragraph before morning.’ Shoma attempted to glower at him.

‘I watched you finish something you had to email to your professor _with three minutes left to spare_ ,’ he reminded him dryly. ‘And this is the sympathy you’re giving me right now?’ Yuzuru laughed at him, brushing his fingers lightly at his fringe and tipping his head back and forth in consideration.

‘See, how I remember that is you laughing at me and throwing popcorn at my head whilst I stressed out, Shoma. At least I’ve not armed myself with snacks,’ he beamed, pulling a silly face that Shoma had to fight not to smile at.

‘Not yet you haven’t,’ he sulked. ‘But you definitely said that like someone who was planning something.’

‘I only ever get revenge on myself. Other people’s mistakes don’t make much difference to me,’ Yuzuru shrugged blithely and Shoma rolled his eyes at him.

‘It’s not a mistake ‘til I miss the deadline, Yuzu: I still have time.’ Yuzuru nodded sceptically, turning his eyes back to his own work and trying to suppress a smirk.

 

Shoma rolled back onto his stomach and reached for his phone, checking the time again to try and work out how long he had left.

‘Forty-six hours, give or take,’ Yuzuru supplied the maths for him without looking up, and Shoma whined plaintively. ‘Mostly take if you keep this up, though,’ Yuzuru added, glancing back at him with a softer smile than before, eyes bright. ‘I have faith in you, if it helps any,’ he said gently. Shoma’s lips twitched into a half-smile and he turned away from him slightly to hide it.

‘From an ethical point of view, freezing time to get it done would be terrible, right?’ he asked, and Yuzuru finally stopped writing, chewing thoughtfully at the end of his pen for a beat before shrugging.

‘I don’t know about the ethics, but the power required to hold back time on two sides of the world at once whilst also writing an essay might be enough to kill you,’ he said casually. ‘And I won’t help you to do it either, so don’t ask,’ he added with an impish smirk. Shoma sighed heavily.

‘It’s not encouraging that the only solutions to this involve death,’ he muttered and Yuzuru laughed, reaching out to poke him with the tip of his foot.

‘Sho!’ he chided, silly and loud. ‘The solution is to write your essay! Even something written on no sleep is better than handing in nothing, right?’

‘We are clearly two very different people, Yuzu,’ Shoma shot back dryly. Yuzuru rolled his eyes, his smile still wide.

‘Actually, not so much,’ he said, wagging a finger at Shoma, his eyes glinting in challenge. Shoma suppressed a grin and Yuzuru scrunched up his face at him in a show of warning. ‘Now stop distracting me – at least one of us should get some work done,’ he said. Shoma pulled a face.

‘Urgh; you said that like you’d ditch me if you missed a deadline or something.’

‘I might!’ Yuzuru protested, his laughter undermining his glare. Shoma smirked wickedly, pushing himself up just a little and shaking his hair out of his face.

‘Not a chance, Yuzu. I’m the coolest friend you have.’

‘You’re the whiniest,’ Yuzuru said, widening his eyes at Shoma in a show of exasperation. ‘Now go back to your studies – don’t make me send you any more lightning.’

‘Like you ever need the excuse,’ Shoma said, rolling his eyes, the corner of his lips curving up fondly. ‘Lightning when you’re bored, lightning when you think I’m not listening, lightning on Thursday when you had a sore throat and were being the most dramatic baby ever by refusing to talk.’ Yuzuru didn’t look up from his notes, but he was smiling too.

 

Shoma let out another yawn, twisting his body into one of his never-ending stretches, catlike and sleepy. He slowly pushed himself upright, his head feeling heavy as he rubbed his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes with a sigh. For a moment he sat watching Yuzuru work from under heavy eyelids; his hair was fluffy and thick where he’d run his hands through his fringe too many times as he looked between his papers and his laptop screen, and his fingers flipped between the pages of his notebooks with curious grace, quick and purposeful. Shoma noticed he was muttering slightly under his breath as he read; he couldn’t make out the words, but he could see his lips moving, fast and frustrated in that way that Shoma had learned meant he was trying to make calculations. It shouldn’t have been as restful as it was, watching him work. There was agitation and determination in his movements, but there was something deeply calm about Yuzuru when he was focused on a task, when all that energy in him finally felt it had somewhere to go. It made Shoma feel pleasantly grounded; placid and content in the knowledge that nothing was expected of him. Yuzuru’s company was effortless like that – he could always disappear inside his own head for a while if Shoma needed him to, but he didn’t curse or fuss when Shoma chose to be a remorseless distraction, he’d simply down his pen and play along. The freedom was something comfortable; as tired as he felt, as much as his deadlines pressed on him and his responsibilities at the Foundation played on his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than happily lazy when he was sprawled out in the garden with Yuzuru.

‘You keep staring at me like that and I will kick you.’

‘Mean.’ Shoma stretched again, lifting his arms high over his head and arching his back. ‘Also: ego, much? I’m not staring at you, I’m staring at how many papers you have out: you have enough information in front of you right now I’m getting a second-hand headache.’

‘No. Definitely staring at me. I’m sitting in the shade and all I feel is sunlight: I’m not the only one who needs a new trick.’

‘Unfair: I really wasn’t even trying.’

‘Imagine if you tried; I’d be made of gold by now!’

‘Urgh – you would so love that.’

‘Are you calling me an attention seeker, Shoma?’

‘Are you saying you don’t live to be fussed over, Yuzuru?’

 

Shoma let his arms flop back down with a huff, moving to join Yuzuru against the tree trunk and peering curiously over his shoulder at his laptop screen, their arms bumping. ‘What are you working on anyway?’ Yuzuru pretended to glare at him, digging an elbow into his side and leaning away slightly.

‘Nosy,’ he huffed. ‘Some people will do anything to avoid their work, huh?’ Shoma stuck his tongue out at him, reaching across him and picking up one of the notebooks. Yuzuru made no effort to stop him; he laughed and leant back a little, watching Shoma skim his eyes over the notes with amused, twinkling eyes.

‘Your handwriting is awful, you know that?’ Shoma remarked, flipping through the pages, and Yuzuru flicked the side of his face in reprimand.

‘Sho! Do you have to be so much of a pain?’ Shoma shrugged.

‘I mean, I don’t have to be – but you make it fun,’ he said, glancing up at Yuzuru with an impish smile, and Yuzuru laughed at him, fond and free.

 

Shoma looked around at the scattered papers then, picking up a sheet full of charts and graphs and frowning down at it before glancing back at the notebook and running his eyes down the seemingly random list there of place names and companies. ‘This is something for Brian, right? A project or whatever?’ he asked and Yuzuru nodded.

‘Something like that. It’s not based on any one theory though; it’s more like research, I guess.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m going through all the facts and figures about the Grey Zones, trying to find any patterns or common threads, you know?’ Shoma nodded vaguely, moving to pick up the notebook Yuzuru had been writing in and leafing through the lists in it idly.

‘So you’re looking for clues in the similarities and stuff,’ he hummed, bobbing his head a little in thought. ‘I guess if you pour in enough information, a pattern might show up somewhere. Logically, it can’t be as random as it seems.’

‘I know there’s whole teams of people working on this stuff, so I probably won’t find anything they don’t – but I find it interesting. The scientists can’t explain it, so I’m trying a different approach.’

‘Well, science can’t explain you…so it would be appropriate, I guess,’ Shoma said archly, laughing when Yuzuru smacked his arm.

‘Hey, science can’t explain you either, Shoma! Stop acting like I’m the only one here with power issues,’ he scolded, still smiling, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Yeah, but you have _so many_ issues, Yuzu. And besides, science doesn’t even know it can’t explain me, so that makes my existence way less cruel,’ he smirked. Yuzuru dug his elbow into Shoma’s ribs again. ‘What? It’s true. Science was busy laughing at the fact that me and the microphone were the same size the day the local TV first interviewed me about my powers. I do cute and innocent really well.’

‘Cute, maybe. Innocent? Not so much,’ Yuzuru shot back, a smile in his eyes. ‘And has science explained yet how someone so small can contain so much cynicism, or are they still working on that?’

‘Say that again and I’ll kick your ankles.’

‘Such a low centre of gravity but still so scrappy.’

‘Come down here and say that: I dare you.’ Yuzuru laughed, bright and happy, pushing Shoma over and rolling his eyes, and Shoma smiled back at him with an idle shrug. ‘What, no comeback?’

‘No. I’m going to let you win this one.’

‘I’m touched.’

‘You should be!’

 

Yuzuru leant back with a soft sigh, closing his eyes for a moment; Shoma felt the garden’s air beginning to cool and he shivered slightly against it, turning back to frown down at Yuzuru’s tiny handwriting with interest. In places there were notes between the lines made in pencil or different colours, in other places there were little hand-drawn drafts of graphs and sums and drawings Shoma couldn’t make out. It was research, but with Yuzuru’s stream of consciousness playing out around its edges, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly at the very organised chaos of it all.

 

‘So you really think this is where the answer’s going to come from? Something people are doing?’ Shoma asked as he thumbed through the pages. Yuzuru shifted beside him as he considered the question.

‘I hope not; because people are harder to stop than any other force on Earth. But no other answers seem to work.’ Shoma glanced back at him, raising his eyebrows in an invitation to elaborate, and Yuzuru shrugged. ‘What we know all points towards it not being natural: what in nature would ever take away the world’s colours anyway? It doesn’t make sense.’ He let his head tip lazily to one side as he followed the thought through in his head before going on. ‘So there has to be a human cause. But what human would have any control over the colours?’ He pulled a face. ‘When trying to make sense out of something like that? Something so contradictory and confusing? I feel like the only way I can process it without getting totally overwhelmed is information. So I look at every little common thread I can.’ Shoma squinted at the list in front of him, slowly looking up at Yuzuru from the corner of his eye.

‘And you think Burger King might be responsible for the Grey Zones because…?’ he said teasingly, tapping the page with his finger and laughing when Yuzuru flicked his forehead in punishment.

‘There are branches in 56.3% of Grey Zones, Shoma,’ he shot back with an exasperated little smile that made Shoma’s heart flip over with affection.

‘You did the sum?!’ Shoma said, his tone part-laughter and part-groan.

‘Brian hands over a whole file of stuff to me every week: it’s not going to be interesting if I don’t do the maths.’ Shoma groaned again, pointedly loud.

‘Why am I friends with someone who does maths for fun?! You are such a nerd!’ Yuzuru shoved him hard enough to knock him over and he broke into a laugh, flopping down onto the grass and looking back up at Yuzuru with a twinkly-eyed smile. ‘Fine. You’re my favourite nerd, does that make it better?’ he offered softly. Yuzuru smiled at him, rolling his eyes.

‘You’re lucky you’re adorable,’ he replied and Shoma scowled, poking him in the ribs with his foot and making him laugh.

‘You could at least pretend to fear me, you know,’ Shoma said with a put-upon sigh and Yuzuru simply rolled his eyes.

‘From the one calling me names!’ he retorted, shaking his head. ‘Anyway, I only do the maths for something if it seems to be following a pattern. A lot of the figures are done for me already – and the stuff that isn’t I mostly do because it makes it easier to work through and interpret instead of reading endless boring papers from the research department.’ Shoma smirked slightly, sitting back up and bumping his shoulder into Yuzuru’s as he settled back beside him.

‘And they speak fondly of you too, Yuzu,’ he teased. Yuzuru suppressed a smile, shaking his head with mild despair.

‘Hey: you know what I mean,’ he said, eyes glimmering at Shoma wildly. Shoma’s own smile gentled, and he tipped his head to one side by way of acknowledgement.

‘I know.’ He glanced down. ‘I almost always know what you really mean,’ he whispered, the admission soft and solemn, a secret just for Yuzuru’s ears. Yuzuru leant against him a little in response, his body a grateful, earnest weight that made Shoma’s breath catch.

 

For a moment the garden was quiet and still; Shoma let his head fall onto Yuzuru’s shoulder as the two of them sat and listened to the splashes of a bird bathing over at the pond’s edge. The light was beginning to change above them, the colours of the conjured sky growing hazier as the sun decided it was time to set – Shoma’s lips twitched up at the sight. He was still faintly entertained by the ridiculousness of Yuzuru’s masterpiece, and the beautiful insight it gave to his inner world. In a strange way it made Shoma feel like he had somehow become a part of the place too – he could change the sky just by making Yuzuru laugh, could make the sun rise and set depending on the stories he told him and could stir up a breeze just by asking Yuzuru to talk about something he was passionate about.

 

Beside him Yuzuru was reading again, looking over a series of complex graphs, but Shoma could tell he’d stopped concentrating; the frown was gone from his forehead, and his pen lay abandoned on top of one of his many notebooks. Shoma twisted slightly, craning to try and make out the details on the charts with a confused squint, and he caught the faint smile on Yuzuru’s lips at his interest; Yuzuru loved nothing more than having a chance to talk about his ideas. ‘What are those supposed to be telling you?’ Shoma asked, and Yuzuru glanced down at him with a soft, happy smile, shrugging his shoulder. Shoma let his head dip up and down with the action, too comfortable to move.

‘They’re power readings. They’re the closest thing to a clue we have, actually. Brian doesn’t make them public – outside of him, the Chief Science Officer and her technician? Only me, Tracy and Ghislain even know they exist.’ Shoma’s eyes widened slightly and he looked up at Yuzuru in surprise. ‘I trust you,’ Yuzuru said simply. He shrugged again, almost casual – but Shoma saw something in his eyes and he felt his chest tighten. He smiled, giving the slightest of nods and looking back at the papers in Yuzuru’s hand with fresh interest.

‘So…what, they’re the levels of power being used in Grey Zones?’ he asked, trying to ignore the roughness of his own voice.

‘Actually, they’re the power levels for all sorts of places – some of them are areas which have Grey Zones now, some of them are still ok. But there is sort of a pattern, even if we can’t make sense of it.’

‘Seriously?’ Shoma blinked, surprised. Yuzuru nodded.

‘Which is why Brian keeps it secret: he doesn’t believe in the rivalries between some of the other agencies trying to solve the Grey Zone problem, but he knows they exist. People do dumb things to try and one-up each other – even governments get involved sometimes. It’s messy, and the research ends up getting stuck in the middle not doing anyone any good. There’s too much potential in this information to risk having it caught up in a war of knowledge – he wants to study the numbers more so he can say something more definite when the time is right.’ Yuzuru sighed. ‘It’s a shame, because maybe if more people were working on looking at the power levels, we might be able to figure out what’s going on; but as it is, it’s still a mystery, and there’s no sign that’s going to change any time soon.’

‘Ok,’ Shoma said slowly, still looking at the charts with a confused frown. ‘But what’s the pattern exactly?’

 

Yuzuru shifted, forcing Shoma to lift his head with a slight grumble; Yuzuru shot him a sidelong glance that was sweetly apologetic and Shoma couldn’t help but smile. He sighed, sitting up a little and moving forwards just enough to get a better view of the papers as Yuzuru laid them out in front of the two of them.

‘These ones here are all charts for areas containing Grey Zones,’ Yuzuru explained, tapping his finger to each chart in turn. ‘Do you see the drop?’ Shoma leant in, nodding slowly.

‘The power levels all go off a cliff – but that’s because the colours have gone, right?’ Yuzuru shook his head, indicating the dates on the chart.

‘No, see: that’s the weird thing – the drop always happens _right before_ the colours disappear. And look at the line going back: the power level is always _rising_ for weeks before the cliff happens.’ Shoma bit his lip, looking over at Yuzuru uneasily.

‘But…doesn’t that mean the powers are causing it? How do you know the rise isn’t the reason for the cliff – too much power in one area draining the atmosphere or something?’ Yuzuru shifted the papers a little, placing another set of charts down on top.

‘Brian worried about that too – so he looked into areas with high concentrations of people with power and had readings done there too.’

‘And? Is it the power?’ Shoma prompted. Yuzuru shook his head.

‘It can’t be,’ he said, pointing to the charts now on top. ‘You see? Some of these places had higher readings to begin with, some rose more sharply – but none of them had the cliff. And every one of these areas is still fine: no Grey Zone.’

‘Oh,’ Shoma said softly, staring down at the lines of the graphs in front of him in bewilderment. ‘And these machines, the ones that measure the power levels – they definitely work, right?’ he asked. Yuzuru shot him a dry look and Shoma shrugged. ‘Hey, something weird’s going on – I just think you should make sure it’s not the equipment before you write a whole paper on this and get proved wrong.’ He flashed Yuzuru a smirk. ‘Honestly, though, your ego could do with the denting.’

‘Shoma!’ Yuzuru let out through a laugh, head falling back and eyes disappearing, his whole face crinkling up at the edges in exasperation and delight. Shoma laughed too, jostling Yuzuru fondly with his arm.

‘I’m taking that as a “Yes, the equipment works”, then?’ he grinned and Yuzuru glared at him playfully.

‘Yes, Shoma, Brian’s very expensive, US-government-funded, high-end equipment definitely works,’ he nodded, rolling his eyes. ‘I mean…the equipment for these readings works anyway.’ He paused then, biting somewhat guiltily at his lip and glancing away – there was a sudden blush in his cheeks and Shoma nudged him enquiringly, badgering him until he let out a huff of breath. ‘Ok, fine, so _most_ of the equipment works.’ Yuzuru looked up at Shoma through a wince, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. ‘The original reason the Foundation was given the power level readers was for a project to do with finding out if there was a certain type of person or power classification which was generating more power, with the idea maybe those people could be brought together and eventually generate enough power to fix the Grey Zones by sheer force of energy, so everyone here was tested…’ Yuzuru trailed off, biting at his lip again and turning his eyes skywards. Shoma stared him down for a beat.

‘Yuzu…’ Shoma said slowly, and Yuzuru looked over at him cautiously from the very corner of his eye. Shoma forced down a laugh. ‘Did they test _your_ power?’ he asked. Yuzuru nodded, eyes closing and blush intensifying. Shoma nodded to himself. ‘Yuzu…’ he said again. Yuzuru looked at him somewhat reluctantly. ‘Did your power break the very expensive, US-government-funded, high-end power reading equipment?’ Yuzuru nodded again and Shoma spluttered out a laugh, falling back against the tree trunk and covering his face with his hands. ‘You’re so _ridiculous_ , you know that?’

‘Only because you keep telling me!’

‘You _broke_ the machine!’

‘Hey, speaking as the person who can actually sense your power, Shoma? I know you would have broken it too – then maybe you wouldn’t find this so funny!’

‘Please. Breaking a machine is so you. I could have ten times the power and you would still be the only one to break the machine,’ Shoma declared decisively, smiling unapologetically. ‘I guess I might break the machine because I didn’t understand what was happening and did the wrong thing, because I generally only have about half of an idea of what I’m doing pretty much all the time. But frying circuits by being a powerful, overdramatic nightmare? That definitely sounds like a you thing to me.’

‘I will get you for this!’ Yuzuru insisted, reaching out before Shoma could stop him and digging his fingers into his side to tickle his ribs.

 

For a moment the two of them jostled and shoved, their limbs tangling as they fought to get to each other with kicks and shoves and more tickling until eventually they were both slumped back against each other, breathless and laughing. Yuzuru’s things were in a mess around them, but for once he didn’t seem to mind, his eyes twinkling at Shoma so fondly it made his smile grow shy and soft. He let his head drop back onto Yuzuru’s shoulder with a sigh, smile widening as he closed his eyes and felt Yuzuru’s head drop down on top of his own; he burrowed into the crook of his neck slightly, letting himself bask in the sleepy contentment of it and enjoying the warmth of Yuzuru beside him.

 

‘Are there any other links or is that what you’re going over now?’ Shoma asked through a yawn. Yuzuru sighed deeply, his breath tickling Shoma’s face.

‘That’s what I’m trying to go over – but there’s a lot of companies and brands and similarities which are everywhere, Grey Zone or not, common threads that make you think you’ve got somewhere until you realise they’re common in lots of places and not just Grey Zones. It’s frustrating but…’

‘But you’d rather be doing something,’ Shoma supplied, understanding. He felt Yuzuru nod lazily against him.

‘I want to help,’ he murmured. Shoma nodded too then, as best he could from where he was squashed against Yuzuru’s shoulder, giving him the smallest nudge with his elbow.

‘You will,’ he whispered. ‘You _do_.’

 

The moment was interrupted by the sound of Shoma’s computer chiming from where it lay abandoned, and both Shoma and Yuzuru jumped slightly at the sudden sound cutting across the peace. Shoma stared at the screen blankly for a second before processing exactly what it was. ‘Oh!’ He pushed himself up and flopped back onto his stomach, glancing back towards Yuzuru with a sheepish smile. ‘It’s Itsuki,’ he explained, reaching across to pull the laptop closer and hitting blindly for what he hoped was the right key. The chiming stopped, and there was a slight delay before the screen was filled with the familiar outlines of home, Itsuki’s face lighting up with a grin when Shoma waved to him.

 

‘Shoma! I saw you were online so I thought I’d call.’ He wrinkled his nose then, letting out a small groan. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss your dumb face – when are you coming home? Our parents only have one person to blame when there’s a mess now: I can’t act innocent and blame it all on you anymore and it’s awful.’ Shoma huffed playfully, rolling his eyes.

‘Thanks for the heart-warming speech,’ he complained lightly and Itsuki laughed.

‘What?! It’s just the truth! You can’t be mad at me, I’m your baby brother, it’s your job to love me no matter what and to miss me with your whole heart.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Debateable,’ he shot back dryly and Itsuki smiled with feigned innocence.

‘I miss making the mess with you in the first place, if that helps?’ he offered and Shoma shook his head.

‘You’re the worst.’

‘No way: that will always be you,’ Itsuki shrugged blithely, shifting himself a little and leaning in towards the screen as though he could stick his head through and look around where Shoma was just by force of will. ‘What time is it there anyway?! I thought it would be night.’ Shoma pulled a face.

‘It is. But I’m with Yuzu so normal rules don’t apply,’ he remarked casually, wincing slightly when he realised what he’d revealed with the throwaway remark.

 

Shoma hadn’t really told his brother much about his friendship with Yuzuru, skirting around the issue by playing down his association with the guy who was supposed to save the world; he didn’t like not telling his brother everything, but somehow the time he spent with Yuzuru seemed too precious, too sacred a thing to be recanted in simple messages or emails, and he’d been hoping he could wait until he visited home before explaining it all to Itsuki. He glanced back towards Yuzuru then, meeting his eyes. He was about to apologize, but Yuzuru simply pulled a face at him.

‘So charming: you know how to make someone feel appreciated, hey?’ he said with the smallest roll of his eyes, and Shoma stifled a smirk, wrinkling his nose at him before quickly turning to look back at the screen.

‘What do you care what time it is anyway – you’ve never minded waking me up before,’ he pointed out to his brother, resting his chin on his hand with a sigh, but Itsuki simply frowned at him, eyes narrowed as he tried to get a look over Shoma’s shoulder.

‘Wait, did you just say you were with Yuzu?!’ he asked, bratty and stubborn, and Shoma narrowed his eyes right back at him, desperately trying to convey to Itsuki the concept of leaving the topic alone.

 

There was a rich silent language between the two of them – they could conduct whole arguments in the space of a second and wordlessly express important information without even the sharpest-eyed observer realising what was going on. But no matter how skilful the two were in silent communication, they were almost always tripped up by their incessant need to wind each other up – Itsuki loved nothing more than deliberately putting his foot in it when Shoma least wanted to deal with it, and Shoma loved nothing more than getting a rise out of Itsuki when Itsuki most wanted to keep his cool.

 

Shoma tried to cram a million silent pleas into the space of a second, not sure if they could come across as powerfully as he needed them to through thousands of miles and interpreted by pixels, but there was a dangerous smirk curving the corner of his brother’s lips and he feared the worst. Yuzuru would probably hate him by the time Itsuki was done asking questions. ‘Shoma,’ Itsuki said slowly, drawing the sound of Shoma’s name out painfully long. Shoma closed his eyes and braced himself. ‘Are you trying to tell me it’s late at night and you’re actually spending your time _with people_?!’ Shoma opened his eyes and stared at Itsuki for a beat, and Itsuki smirked back at him with impish glee. ‘Well, ok, one person, but still,’ he shrugged. ‘I was surprised enough you were even making friends; this is something else, now, with you letting someone be around you during your peak insomnia hours.’ Shoma didn’t know whether to thank him or glare at him, and he let out a breath he’d hardly noticed himself holding, dropping his head down onto his arms with a huff.

‘You are so awful; I spend loads of time with you late at night, stop making me sound like a hermit.’

‘I don’t count, Shoma: we live in the same house and we share a room, you don’t get a choice,’ Itsuki shot back.

 

Shoma felt a smile tugging at his lips despite himself and he shook his head despairingly; there was something strangely comforting about the idea of his brother calling him for no real purpose but to start a pointless argument across the miles, like nothing had changed at all.

‘Do you actually have anything useful to tell me or is calling me names the only plan you had for this conversation?’ Shoma asked, resting his chin on his hand again. Itsuki pretended to mull it over, tipping his head to one side for a moment, eyes turning up towards the ceiling.

‘I mean, technically you called yourself a hermit so…the name calling portion of this conversation really hasn’t been everything it could have.’ He shrugged then, looking back at Shoma with a gentler smile. ‘It’s boring here without you around. I thought I had way better friends but…turns out I was wrong.’ He pulled a face, looking down. ‘You tell anyone I said that and I will hunt you down and hurt you, though,’ he added. Shoma laughed.

‘Too late, Yuzu’s my witness,’ Shoma said, looking over at Yuzuru, who glanced up and pulled a face at him.

‘I heard nothing: I’m not getting in the middle of siblings! You’re on your own this time, Shoma,’ he teased, his smile mischievous. Itsuki clapped, pleased.

‘I like him, Sho – you can keep him around,’ he said brightly and Shoma felt as fondly exasperated with Yuzuru as he did with his brother. Yuzuru was looking back down at his notes again, but there was a smile on his lips that betrayed him, and Shoma had to admit that maybe the fond part was the one that was going to win out.

‘Maybe I’ll keep him, we’ll see,’ he muttered, catching Yuzuru’s eye and offering him a small, playful smile.

 

With a put-upon sigh Shoma shifted himself, picking up the laptop and crawling back to sit beside Yuzuru, who cast him a curious glance. Shoma simply shrugged, offering him another small smile and a slight nudge, and Yuzuru let out a soft laugh, shaking his head and going back to his notes. Shoma settled himself so he was more comfortable, setting the computer back down. ‘Is it really so boring back home you have to try and muscle in on my friends now?’ he asked Itsuki as he leant forward, angling the screen so that Yuzuru was just visible in the frame of his webcam. He knew Itsuki’s face well enough to catch the moment of slight intrigue there – the instinctive, human reaction to seeing someone from the news suddenly on your brother’s webcam, sitting studying like a normal person. To his credit, Itsuki made a valiant attempt at smothering the surprise as quickly as possible, eyes rapidly assessing the calm, unbothered atmosphere between Shoma and Yuzuru as he decided to take their lead. Itsuki was a pain, but he cared about Shoma – he wouldn’t risk alienating his friend for the sake of ogling a famous person, and when it came down to it, he had much the same attitude as Shoma did to the media circus that chased Yuzuru around.

‘You say that like I have options; are there more friends I can choose between to steal from you or is this one my only option?’ he said teasingly and Shoma shot him a dry glare.

‘What, you want an identity parade?’ he asked. Itsuki pulled a face, glancing over at Yuzuru again curiously.

‘Huh, you know, you look taller on TV,’ he remarked, managing an air of nonchalance, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh, covering his eyes with his hands and groaning.

‘Seriously?!’ he whined at his brother, but Yuzuru looked up at the screen with a bright, unbothered smile, eyes glittering.

‘And you look taller on Shoma’s phone screen, so I guess we’re even,’ he told Itsuki idly and Shoma smirked, looking at Itsuki with sparkling eyes.

‘Finally: I have found a friend who is immune to you and your dumb mouth,’ he declared. Itsuki pursed his lips, looking back over at Yuzuru.

‘Is his lockscreen still the picture from his birthday?’ he asked, suddenly all enthusiasm. Yuzuru nodded and Shoma groaned. ‘And did he tell you the whole story of how that picture got taken?’ Itsuki grinned.

‘It was my birthday and our parents wanted to document the fact they’d actually managed to keep me alive for two whole decades?’ Shoma tried hopefully, and Itsuki shook his head.

‘Shoma, be honest with Yuzuru. You should always be honest with people off the television,’ Itsuki nodded sagely and Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Is that a rule?’ he asked. Itsuki shrugged.

‘Probably.’ Yuzuru laughed, glancing at Shoma thoughtfully.

‘I kind of admire his approach; most people try and pretend they’ve never picked up a newspaper in their lives,’ he remarked and Shoma couldn’t help his wry smile.

‘Yeah, my brother’s a real winner with the blunt honesty.’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘I guess it must run the family, hey?’ he said, shooting Shoma a knowing look before glancing back at Itsuki. ‘Fine, embarrass your brother in front of the person from the television: how did the photo end up being taken?’ he asked and Shoma whined.

‘No,’ he whimpered, covering his face, and Itsuki beamed.

‘Oh, I definitely like you,’ he declared. ‘So, I mean, the main reason the photo got taken is because it was his birthday, obviously. But also our family really, really wanted a picture of both of us with the cake...since it was such a special part of the day.’

‘Shut up,’ Shoma interjected, but Itsuki ignored him.

‘See, the people in the restaurant we went to thought _I_ must be the older brother, and it turned into a whole ordeal – Shoma didn’t know whether he wanted to die more when they started singing or when they put the cake down in front of me instead.’ Yuzuru laughed and looked over at Shoma, whose face was hot with remembered embarrassment.

‘Definitely when they started singing – everyone was looking, it was awful. And then Mum decided telling them they got the wrong brother would make it better and not ten times worse. And they _actually started singing again_! The whole restaurant was staring and I could hear about three different people say how they couldn’t believe I was twenty.’ Shoma looked up at Yuzuru and pulled a face. ‘Mostly I can handle being embarrassed, I’ve sort of built up immunity because I’ve been embarrassed for about half my life. But that day our whole family was there and I’ve never heard the end of it since.’ Yuzuru offered him a soft smile, amusement still dancing in his eyes, and Shoma wrinkled his nose, giving his brother a glare. ‘I’m never answering a call from you again,’ he whined. Itsuki laughed.

‘Liar: you miss me,’ he said confidently. Shoma was grateful to Yuzuru for not taking the opportunity to confirm this to his brother, simply pursing his lips and shooting him a knowing look instead.

 

There was a sound from somewhere out beyond the bedroom door, and Itsuki turned towards it, listening to what Shoma suspected was their mother telling him to hurry up. When he looked back at the screen he was pouting. ‘I think I have to go – we’re supposed to go out with these people Dad works with, and if we’re not there at least a half-hour early then Mum will start stressing out,’ he sighed, rolling his eyes. ‘You want to talk to her or should I let you escape before the motherly concern starts about what you’re doing awake at this time?’ Shoma laughed.

‘Please spare me the motherly concern,’ he said emphatically. He missed his parents, but not enough to listen to ten minutes of his mother fretting over him, especially not in front of Yuzuru. He also wasn’t sure what his parents’ reaction to Yuzuru would be: Itsuki was tactless but charming with it, but his parents had the potential to be embarrassingly curious. ‘There’s really no other news? You haven’t seen Sota or anyone?’ Shoma asked then, and Itsuki shook his head.

‘All quiet,’ he said. ‘Oh, except those people sent some more letters and stuff – the power recruitment people? I can’t remember what they’re called. But apparently no one told them you left for the Foundation already.’ Shoma frowned slightly, confused.

‘Wait, what power recruitment people?’

‘You know, the ones who tried to convince Mum to let you have some sort of interview with them and she wouldn’t let them get beyond the front door? The Productivity Alliance or Powers United or something? I don’t know; those guys who find jobs for people with powers or whatever. They still want you, though. If you’re interested. Or if the Foundation gets sick of how grumpy you can be, maybe.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Shut up, people here like me just fine: I think you’re the problem.’

‘Have they met you first thing in the morning, Shoma? Have they tried to wake you up from a nap?’ Itsuki wheedled and Shoma attempted a glower. ‘Have they got stuck on a bus with you because you slept through the stop?’

‘You slept through our stop too – I’m not taking the blame for this again.’

‘You are the older brother, you’re supposed to look after me, not the other way around,’ Itsuki said, working from a well-worn script between the two of them. Shoma’s face was sulky but his eyes were bright and he glanced up at Yuzuru, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement.

‘Baby brothers,’ Shoma muttered darkly, and Yuzuru rested his chin on his hand, hiding a laugh behind his fingers.

‘No comment,’ he said, aiming for innocence, and Shoma suppressed a smile.

 

‘Hey, Superpower Boy,’ Itsuki said suddenly, and Shoma’s eyes widened as he looked back at his brother in mild horror. ‘You got a power that wakes him up without all the complaining? Because that will come in handy if you keep him around.’

‘Seriously?!’ Shoma said, but Itsuki remained unbothered.

‘What?! I see Twitter – he’s been called worse,’ he protested, and Shoma let out a groan, covering his face with his hands.

‘How are you my brother?!’ he said, looking over at Yuzuru through his fingers apologetically. ‘If I could control his mouth I would.’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘Lucky for you I know you’re two different people, hey?’ he teased. ‘And I mean…he’s not wrong,’ he added with a shrug. ‘I’ve been called a lot worse by a lot of people. Mostly Team Japan, honestly.’ Shoma smiled softly, shaking his head and looking back at Itsuki.

‘You’re lucky Yuzu is a better human than me, coz I would’ve got you back so hard if you were that rude to me,’ he pointed out.

‘Most people are better humans than you, Sho; it was an easy gamble.’

 

There was another sound from out beyond the room and Itsuki turned again, huffing before yelling back a whiney promise that he was coming that Shoma knew would get him a telling off when he finally did hang up the call.

‘Mum sounds like she’s not got much patience left.’

‘Without you around to make us late all the time I think she’s finally starting to realise that I’m not as organised as you always make me seem. I think it’s a shock to her system that both her children are actually useless and not just the one,’ Itsuki grinned. Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Whatever.’ He sighed, waving his hand in a vague, shooing gesture. ‘Go on, go already, before she comes in looking for you and starts asking me questions I don’t want to answer.’

‘Oh, if she came in now all she would see is that you made friends with the guy off the television,’ Itsuki shrugged, glancing at Yuzuru and pulling a face. ‘She thinks you’re brilliant, by the way.’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘She might think again if she had to put up with me,’ he pointed out lightly. Shoma flashed him a soft smile.

‘I don’t know. You’re ok, I guess.’

‘High praise from Shoma – I never get an “ok” out of him,’ Itsuki pouted.

‘Because you’re awful. Now go away already. I’ll message you later.’

‘Fine,’ Itsuki sighed dramatically. ‘I will be sending you live updates from this family dinner whether you want them or not: if I have to suffer you do too.’

‘Whatever. Just try not to ruin the family name.’

‘Urgh, I’m hanging up now, Sho, I don’t think I like you anymore,’ Itsuki replied and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘We’re related, so tough: you’re stuck with me whether you like me or not.’

‘You should put that in a card – so sweet!’ Itsuki teased, but he was smiling with it, and Shoma’s own smile quietened a little as he nodded.

‘Fine, be like that. But next time you see me online you call again, ok? I don’t mind if you wake me up.’

‘Ok.’ Itsuki glanced down, his own expression gentling. ‘And the same to you too, you know? I don’t like it without you around.’

‘Promise. And I’ll remember you said that next time you’re complaining about me.’

 

Shoma stared at the screen for a second or two after Itsuki hung up the call, chewing at his bottom lip and trying to keep his emotions in some sort of order; it had been nice to be able to talk to his brother, better still to be able to share that with Yuzuru, the only other person in the world who knew all his secrets. But Itsuki hanging up reminded Shoma that the distance had only been temporarily bridged, that their lives were, for now, two sperate, distant things in a way they had never been before. He looked over at Yuzuru, who offered him a tender smile, eyebrows quirking a little; there was something understanding shining in those ever-expressive eyes.

‘You ok?’ he asked, whisper-soft, protecting Shoma from the ears of the garden’s birds and butterflies, as though he might not want them to know he was vulnerable to homesickness. Shoma swallowed, nodding vaguely, and Yuzuru’s face was filled with the sort of genuine, understated compassion Shoma hadn’t realised he was craving until it was being offered to him. It was warm and full – it was a sort of healing no power could match, but because it came from Yuzuru, there was still power in it, something total and overwhelming. He held out one arm to Shoma then and Shoma practically collapsed against him, aching to be close in a way which was entirely unlike him. Yuzuru’s touch was gentle but firm as his arm wrapped around Shoma’s shoulders, and Shoma closed his eyes gratefully, breathing the scent of bergamot in deep; Yuzuru felt like home, a different home but one which Shoma found just the same pull of belonging in, and the comfort of his body against Shoma’s own was immense.

 

Shoma felt himself beginning to drift towards sleep; he fought not to fall off the edge of consciousness, wanting to enjoy the pleasant swell of Yuzuru’s gravity and the absent way he had begun to stroke at his hair, tucking the strands into some order only he understood. The quiet stretched out between them, endless but entirely undaunting, and Shoma shivered slightly as the garden’s evening sky melted away into a dreamy night, cooling the air around him further and making him lean even more into Yuzuru’s steady warmth. ‘You want to go back up?’ Yuzuru asked him quietly after who-knew-how-long had passed. Shoma let out a sleepy mumble, shaking his head and nuzzling into Yuzuru’s neck like a sullen child. As he curled against him a little more, he felt the vibration of his soft laugh and the sensation of his breath ruffling his hair. ‘You want to sleep?’ Yuzuru asked then, just as gently. Shoma shook his head again and he felt Yuzuru shift his head a little, craning to look down at him. ‘You want to just lie here for a bit longer?’ he offered finally. Shoma smiled, drowsy and gentle, nodding and letting out a small hum of agreement. Yuzuru laughed again, resting his head on top of Shoma’s, his hand dropping to his side, fingers rubbing lightly at his waist in an absent-minded, soothing gesture. ‘We both know you’re going to fall asleep, Sho,’ he murmured, happy and fond, and Shoma hummed again.

‘Probably. But I sleep better when you’re close,’ he admitted. ‘You make my head go quieter. It’s peaceful, being around you. It makes things seem easier than they are.’

 

Yuzuru was quiet for a while, his fingers stilling; Shoma could feel him breathing beside him, steady and calming – he could even feel the rise and fall of his ribs against him. He wondered idly if this was what it was like to live in the eye of Yuzuru’s storm – if it was something anyone else on Earth had ever known or if this was another of their secrets.

‘It’s peaceful being around you too, Shoma,’ Yuzuru whispered, so soft Shoma opened his eyes to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep and dreamt it. ‘Maybe I still have a home somewhere after all; maybe it’s just something I only have when I’m around you.’

 

Shoma didn’t remember falling asleep or how long they’d sat together before he’d finally drifted off; the last thing he remembered was Yuzuru’s fingers digging into his side just a little, almost tickling as he held Shoma close and told him to rest. Despite the late night he had slept well, heavy and deep and pleasantly dreamless, and even though he’d woken up earlier than he would normally have liked on a Sunday, he didn’t feel quite as useless as he expected to. It didn’t surprise him any longer to wake up in his own room, no real trace of Yuzuru to be found but for the fact his laptop, books and coursework notes were neatly stacked on the bedside table and his backpack tucked away to one side instead of them all being dumped at the foot of the bed where they usually tended to live.

 

By the time Satoko had come to knock on his door, Shoma had been awake for an hour, showered and changed and sitting cross-legged on his bed staring blankly at his coursework with dolefully wide eyes and bitten-raw lips.

‘It’s open,’ he called out miserably, not bothering to look away from the screen even as the door opened somewhat cautiously and Satoko peeked her head around. She’d come to drag him out to breakfast, but he wasn’t really in the mood for company, too worried that he hadn’t a hope of meeting his deadline and his mind spiralling off into a million worst case scenarios for falling behind on his university work.

 

‘Are you decent?’ Satoko asked teasingly, backing into the room balancing a drinks holder and a takeaway bag. Shoma rolled his eyes, shooting her a playful glare.

‘If you mean as a human being? Only about 50%. If you’re asking if I’m dressed, then figure it out from the fact I didn’t just yell at you to get out,’ he said dryly.

‘You should be nicer to me, Shoma! I brought sugar,’ she pointed out, waving the bag and the drinks holder and setting them down on the bedside table before moving over to the window. ‘Would it kill you to let some light in here?’ she asked him, shaking her head in mild exasperation before pulling the blinds open and rolling her eyes when Shoma let out a childish whine of protest as the bright sunlight hit his eyes. ‘Stop pouting,’ she scolded him laughingly, pulling herself up to sit on the window ledge. ‘There is pastry in that bag; you’ll feel better after you’ve eaten,’ she told him kindly. Shoma looked up at her and she offered him a shrug. ‘Keiji was going to make you come down to eat with all of us, but I told him we should let you rest.’ When Shoma simply smiled at her she rolled her eyes, waving towards the bag with a sigh. ‘Just eat already and stop making me pity you.’ Shoma laughed, leaning back to grab the bag and letting out a grateful hum when he saw the logo on the side was from Team Japan’s favourite café that had a menu which consisted almost entirely of things Shoma loved.

 

As Shoma tucked into his breakfast, Satoko watched him thoughtfully, shifting to sit cross legged on the window ledge. ‘Did you pull an all-nighter on this coursework?’ she asked him, eyes narrowed. Shoma made a vague noise of disagreement from around a mouthful of pastry.

‘Not really.’ He glanced down somewhat shyly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Yuzu made me go to bed,’ he added in a mumble. Satoko arched an eyebrow and he squirmed, suddenly deciding to become fascinated by his laptop keyboard.

‘Well at least someone is keeping an eye on your bad habits, huh?’ Satoko remarked after a moment, still looking at Shoma in that vaguely assessing way of hers. Shoma pulled a face, avoiding her eyes. ‘I will thank him when I see him next. You won’t do yourself any good losing sleep over coursework, Shoma.’ Shoma shrugged lamely, grabbing the drink she had brought him and taking a gulp.

‘I think Yuzu’s point was more “You’re not working on it anyway so stop complaining and go to sleep already” but…sure, I guess you can thank him.’

‘You don’t fool me, Shoma: I know Yuzuru is a better friend than that, otherwise you wouldn’t have taken to him so quickly.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m grateful someone like him is watching over you – you always think of yourself last, Shoma. Yuzuru is a good friend for you: he won’t stand for it.’

 

Shoma flopped back onto his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling disconsolately. His hair fell back from his forehead, the sun coming in from the window warming his face and making him suddenly feel the effects of his late night.

‘What makes you think you’re such a good judge of character, huh?’ he asked quietly, his features knitting into a small frown. Satoko laughed at him softly.

‘I don’t – but I think you are,’ she said plainly. ‘And you look at Yuzuru like he conjured the stars into the sky. You wouldn’t hold someone in such high esteem if you didn’t trust them.’ Satoko’s voice was soft and gentle, but there was a determination in her words: she had a sharp eye and a clear view of the world, and Shoma appreciated that in her. He swallowed, keeping his eyes on the ceiling, his gaze intent but his mind drifting away a little.

‘He has conjured stars into a sky before,’ he murmured distantly. ‘But then…so have I, I guess…’ he added too quietly for Satoko to hear. He closed his eyes. ‘I’d trust him with my life if I had to,’ he admitted. ‘So would a lot of people, though – and most of them don’t even know him at all. I’m not special.’

 

A thick quiet settled over the two of them. Shoma’s room had grown stuffy whilst the blinds had been closed, and now with the late morning sunshine streaming in the air felt heavy and stifling. Shoma kept his eyes closed, allowing the silence to stretch between the two of them without much concern; Satoko, like Shoma, always chose her words carefully, and she had a way of cutting to the heart of things which took a certain amount of concentration. Shoma gave her the time and space she needed, taking the opportunity to try and clear his head a little in preparation for whatever question Satoko was building up to ask him.

‘It’s strange, isn’t it, that Yuzuru should be friends with so many people here and yet no one can tell you for sure what he feels, what he senses?’ Shoma opened one eye, looking up at Satoko curiously. She was looking at him thoughtfully, her chin resting on her hand and her eyes bright. ‘We all know he is silly and kind and fierce, we all laugh and joke with him and trust him with our thoughts – we know how to tease him and how to dare him to things, how hard he works and how much he cares. But so few people here would say they knew his stories; knew the names his sister calls him or the books he likes to read, the things he wishes for on shooting stars or what he whispers under his breath when he’s thinking. Few people would say they understood how much sadness and fear he carries alongside his determination, or how much compassion he carries with his wildness.’ She tilted her head. ‘But I think you would say you knew all these things, if you didn’t think you would be betraying him by admitting it.’

‘Maybe I just-’

‘Listen?’ Satoko interrupted with a nod and a soft smile. ‘So you keep saying. And you do, Shoma. You listen and he talks. It is something which brings you together, right?’ Shoma shrugged evasively, looking back up at the ceiling.

‘Maybe. I don’t know. I guess it makes sense.’

‘You don’t fool me: I see it. You two are two sides of the same coin. I think he is someone who is very used to being heard but not listened to, known but not understood. I think you are someone who is used to being seen but not paid attention to. Cared for but never believed in. It is a powerful mixture, no?’

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ Shoma whispered absently.

 

The sound of the birds calling out to each other echoed in Shoma’s ears; the world outside was still turning, but he felt like his room had stood still. He could feel Satoko’s piercing gaze on him and he wasn’t sure what it was she was trying to puzzle out in him.

‘Don’t underestimate the value of it, Shoma,’ Satoko said at last, her voice soft, respectful of the quiet between them. Shoma slowly turned his head to look at her, his forehead forming a furrow of confusion and his eyes heavy-lidded and tired. Satoko offered him a kind smile, shrugging a shoulder. ‘We’re friends, right?’ she asked. Shoma nodded, still frowning slightly, and Satoko nodded back, her smile widening a little. ‘So I can tell you something I see without you thinking badly of me? Without you thinking I’m just another person gossiping about how Yuzuru spends his time?’ Shoma nodded again, a little more uncertainly. ‘I think it is too easy to play down the friends we make here as just a consequence of being thrown together in this place. But maybe in doing that – in our desire to normalise and dismiss – we forget that we haven’t been thrown together at random. We were thrown together with purpose, with direction. The universe is full of carless chances and tricks of fate – but not our little universe here. We all have something in us, something which has helped shape the way we see the world and the way we respond to it – we all have our powers inside us all the time, a part of us and our nature that we can’t ever fully explain to those people who don’t share that experience. And even if it is down to luck that we were given our powers in the first place, I don’t think it is down to luck that we were all brought here together: that is something Brian has created, because he believed in some fundamental force of will inside us which makes us kindred spirits in more ways than power. We are all alike here in more ways than can simply be blamed on fate.’ Shoma blinked back at her, slowly and silently, and she sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. ‘Shoma, I am trying to tell you not to dismiss Yuzuru’s friendship as a simple consequence of circumstance. You are so quick to doubt yourself; you look to Javi and Keiji and Taka when others start to question how you two became friends or what it is you talk about, where you go when none of us can find you. But you shouldn’t doubt it just because others can’t understand. It is something you have – so hold onto it more tightly, protect it. Because Yuzuru could offer that company to any one of us here; we all have the basic ingredients needed to be his friend.’ Satoko shrugged. ‘But you’re the one he is drawn to.’

‘It’s still coincidence: that he is who he is and that we both ended up here. It’s down to chance we spoke at all.’

‘But is it though? Didn’t he take the time to choose to talk to you? Shoma, that’s a coincidence he is choosing to make happen; a miracle of his own design.’ Shoma laughed slightly, looking up at the ceiling with a small shake of his head.

‘Now you sound like he does.’

‘Well good! Yuzuru knows what he is talking about – I must be onto something, right?’ Satoko laughed and Shoma couldn’t help but smile, glancing back over at her with a roll of his eyes.

‘Why do you care so much about my friendship with Yuzuru?’ he sighed and Satoko offered him a gentle smile, her kind face outlined in gold by the sunlight streaming in from the window behind.

‘Because I care about you. And I think he is more important to you than you realise; you shouldn’t take it for granted when someone shows you who they are. You should know that most of all.’ Shoma swallowed, nodding slowly and closing his eyes.

‘Yeah. I do,’ he whispered. ‘And I don’t take Yuzuru for granted. If anything I hold him too close – he’s too much of a secret to me. He starts talking and I wish he would never talk to anyone else. I wish he didn’t have to face the world the way he does and I wish I wasn’t so painfully aware of how easy he would be to break. I wish I could just stay talking about nothing with him forever and that the rest of the world would leave him be.’

 

He drew in a deep breath, listening to the soft rustle of the sheets beneath him and the crinkle of the pillow behind his head; somewhere on the furthest reaches of his consciousness he was aware of the faint pull of thunderclouds and drums. ‘You know how some people, when you’re around them, you just find them drawing out the most awful version of yourself? Like, everything they do just goads you into bringing out all your bad habits?’ He glanced up at Satoko and she nodded in reply. ‘And then you meet other people and it’s the opposite: you’re a better person than you would ever manage to be away from them and you hardly remember those bad habits exist.’ Shoma paused, looking back up at the ceiling with a deep sigh.

‘But?’ Satoko prompted.

‘But…sometimes, you find someone who doesn’t do any of that. There is no good or bad, no best or worst version of who you are. There’s just you. The most of you. Everything inside you. Like you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every cell in your body being alive and present in that moment. You don’t have to think, you just are.’

‘And is Yuzuru one of those people?’ Satoko asked gently. Shoma closed his eyes and nodded.

‘To me? He’s that everything person. I’d follow him into the heart of a storm because I’d be too busy chasing that feeling to care. He’s addictive. And it’s almost…terrifying. I guess I haven’t really decided what to do with that yet. I’m waiting to try and work out how far into hell I could follow before it got too much.’

 

Satoko was quiet for a beat, looking at him with wise, kind eyes and an unreadable half-smile – she nodded, mostly to herself, then met his gaze intently.

‘Just promise me something, Shoma: let him know when you figure out those limits,’ she said firmly. ‘I think he is someone who is happy to fight his battles alone if he must, and has been doing it that way for a long time. I’m not sure how well he would cope if he thought he was finally in a place where he had an ally to march into danger with, only to find them gone when the battle came. And I honestly believe it would devastate him should he lead you into a fight you discovered you weren’t equipped to win. He would blame himself. If everything in this world were to end in flames and he looked and saw you had been burned, he would feel it with the force of a thousand blows.’

‘You say that like you think that’s how all this is going to end.’

‘People without colours are senseless, empty things, Shoma. But those people on the other side of it? The ones who are afraid of losing everything they know to become those senseless, empty things themselves? They are the opposite. They have too much inside. It’s starting to make them angry. Things are getting worse with every new Grey Zone, and we have no answers to reassure them with, only powers they don’t understand. Our powers make them distrust us, because they can’t imagine what we might do with them. It worries me often; no matter how much I try not to think of it, at times it feels like that danger is closing in. I would like an everything person to escape with. Someone to listen to my worries and, instead of telling me I was wrong, simply nod and make me feel it didn’t matter. It might be nice to be convinced we could fight anything – I think I would follow someone that made me feel that way anywhere and would never falter or turn away, not even when I heard the roar of the fight up ahead. It is not for everyone, but for me? I would like to fight and not be scared. But then, I am a Warrior and you are a Healer, so maybe in these things we are not the same.’

 

Shoma understood Satoko’s fears; she was perceptive and honest, and sometimes having such a clear-headed view of the world left her vulnerable to seeing its bleakness a little too sharply. She was a capable, calm soul – to Shoma even her power felt like the deepest, stillest lake, placid on the surface but full of life beneath – and Shoma thought that perhaps she had come to him because she knew he would let her get the words out into the open so she could corral them into something she could process, an exercise in healing herself as much as advising him. He offered no false platitudes or empty reassurances about the state of the world out into the quiet between them, instead he simply rolled over and picked the bag of food back up, offering her on of the miniature chocolate muffins and a small, understanding smile. ‘You’re a good friend, Shoma,’ she said sincerely and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Shut up and take the food before I change my mind,’ he shot back gently, making her laugh.

‘Fine. But move over so I can come curl up with you. I have a story about Waka and the new girls’ adventures that I really want to tell you so you can help me tease them all later. It ends with chocolate sprinkles everywhere and a ruined dress, if that helps sell the idea to you any.’

 

Whilst Shoma didn’t begrudge Satoko her need to unload on someone, he couldn’t help but keep glancing at the time on his phone, and eventually Satoko had apologised, hugged him unexpectedly tightly and promised to let him get on with his work, disappearing with loose promises about seeing him at the meeting later and assurances about how much time he had that didn’t ease Shoma’s worries at all. He felt his panic building up again as he picked his laptop back up and stared at the blinking cursor, allowing it to taunt him silently; now Satoko’s words were piled on top of the list of things his mind was trying to process and he just needed to get out, needed space and fresh air. But if he left his room the feeling of other people’s powers would start to distract him and the sun beating down on his back would make him feel itchy and exhausted.

 

After a few more minutes of stone-faced staring, he let out a whine from the back of his throat, scrunching his face up and closing his eyes as he flung himself back against his pillows sulkily. There was a patch of light falling across his face and he threw his arm over his eyes, taking a deep breath in an effort to clear his thoughts and shake off the heaviness of the air around him. In the darkness behind his closed eyelids his head felt a little clearer, but his body still felt heavy and his throat dry, and he wished, dearly, that he’d made the most of the crisp breezes of the garden the previous night and the balm of Yuzuru’s company, humming along beside him. The strange thing about Yuzuru was that his presence could so easily be a distraction, his power a nuisance – but to Shoma it never was, at least not in any negative way. Sometimes he needed that nuisance, because it threw his troubles into focus and took him out of his own head. And, for all his spark and prickle, Yuzuru made Shoma feel whole and understood: there was safety in his lightning. It shouldn’t have made sense, but it did.

 

Shoma squeezed his eyes a little more tightly shut; it was becoming second nature to him now, to take these pauses and reach out. And there, somewhere on the edges of everything, he could sense him; like the ridges of a fingerprint, subtle and familiar.  A brief pulse of lightning reached back out to him immediately and Shoma felt his breath catch at the sensation – the shock traveling through his veins and piercing the stifling fog of his room, making the air around him feel a little lighter.

 

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds later that his phone chimed, and Shoma picked it up curiously, blinking his eyes back into focus as he gazed down at the screen. He was somewhat surprised to see Yuzuru’s name there, but a smile spread across his face all the same. It was a simple “Are you ok?”, but the significance of the gesture wasn’t lost on Shoma. He sent back a “Yes” before pulling a face and sending “No” instead. Then he rolled his eyes at himself and blew out a breath, rubbing his tired eyes before deciding Yuzuru’s kindness probably deserved more than conflicting one word responses. He finally settled on sending “Just overwhelmed” with a small, self-conscious twitch of a smile, and Yuzuru didn’t miss a beat, the reply almost instant. All he said was “Top floor of the library, bring your coursework”, and yet somehow the message managed to convey the force of Yuzuru’s compassion and determination in a single sentence. With another small smile, Shoma had immediately begun to pack up his things. He didn’t need to question it yet: right now he would follow Yuzuru’s lead gladly, and his head already felt a little clearer for it.

 

The library was one of the buildings on the outskirts of the Foundation’s circular complex, rising up amongst the cluster of small, low buildings that formed the perimeter of their curious glass city before the grounds turned into a ranging grass slope all the way down to the front gates. Shoma hadn’t been inside before and he stared around with wide, curious eyes at the tall, tightly-packed bookcases and the vaulted ceilings. Like everywhere else at the Foundation, care had been given to make the most of every detail of every inch of the space; there were up-lit shelves and intricately carved chairs highlighted with swirling gold accents and painted across the ceilings were wild, magical landscapes, tiny coloured lights picking out stars and streetlamps and lighthouses in the different scenes. Books of every age and topic found space in every available corner, stretching back in seemingly endless rows and even clustering over the arches which separated off the different sections. Old-fashioned wooden step ladders, small, ornate reading desks and curious study nooks nestled in amongst it all, blending seamlessly into their surroundings, with some seats even built into the bookshelves, and sometimes it took Shoma a while to realise there was even anyone else in the space, given how many tucked-away places there were for people to hide.

 

The top floor was a study space, more open and bright than the lower floors had been; the walls were high and white, lined by shelves which climbed up towards the glass ceiling in neat, slim rows along the very edges of the room, stretched up to by ladders and mid-air walkways to allow access to the very top books, which were on shelves so high they were actually in the beginnings of the roof’s dome. The layout was uncluttered and symmetrical, long, group work desks running down in a central column with smaller desks arranged tidily in corners. Yuzuru was easy to find in the cool, airy space; his energy was like someone had thrown several tins of paint onto the crisp canvass of the room, and Shoma probably could’ve pinpointed where he was even with his eyes closed. He was sitting up on the highest of the walkways which ran around the upper shelves, cross legged and seemingly engrossed in a battered-looking green book, pausing only every now and then to push at his glasses. Although he didn’t look up when Shoma arrived, Shoma felt the slightest prickle of lightning at the edge of his consciousness and he smirked at the silent greeting, shaking his head and moving over to one of the large central work desks, putting down his stuff beside where Yuzuru’s laptop was sitting open. They were the only two in the reading room, and Shoma felt himself relax immediately; there was no need to concentrate or question or block out, no need to make conversation or wonder what was expected of him. It was him and Yuzuru: he understood how to exist in that space instinctively.

 

Shoma sat down at one of the chairs and began pulling out his things, setting up his laptop and flipping idly through his notes, skimming over them for the hundredth time that day. The bright, air-conditioned air on his skin woke him up a little, and his head felt less heavy, less cluttered – the muzzy feeling that had been hanging over him all morning cleared away, finally allowing him to start turning the notes he was reading into more concrete chains of thought in his mind. He pulled his laptop to him, opening up the document; as he waited for it to load he briefly flicked a glance back up to where Yuzuru was sitting, a solemn, studious expression on his face, his fingers tapping out an absent beat against the edge of the green book’s cover. One leg was dangling over the edge of the walkway now, his back leaning against the bookcase and his hair falling forward; there was something serene and content about him, even with the small frown of concentration creasing his features, and the very corner of Shoma’s lips twitched up in a fond smile – of course no one could seem more content when balancing on a precarious ledge than Yuzuru.

 

Shoma found himself settling back into his work with surprising ease; finally able to comfortably and completely switch off from his surroundings and the rest of the noise in his head, he was quick to find himself in a rhythm. He wasn’t exactly flying through his word count, but he was getting somewhere at last – there was less time spent staring blankly at the screen and more time spent frowning down at his notes, chewing at the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he tried to translate them into something solid. He shivered slightly against the faint breeze of the air-conditioning, and without thinking he grabbed Yuzuru’s jacket from where it was draped over the chair beside him, pulling the worn-soft fabric up at the elbow just enough for his fingers to peek out of the end of the too-long sleeves; he rested his chin on his hand to read back a little, and he smiled as he caught the familiar hint of bergamot and jasmine from the cuff.

 

He didn’t realise Yuzuru had made his way down from the walkway until he heard the chair beside him being pulled back, and he looked up from his work immediately, meeting Yuzuru’s gaze with a soft smile as he sat down.

‘You ever going to just say “Hi” to me like a normal person or am I your personal telepathy project forever now?’ he asked, his eyes twinkling even as he hid his smirk behind his hand.

‘I don’t know if you’d noticed, but I’m not exactly normal,’ Yuzuru remarked with a casual shrug, his eyebrows quirked playfully as he shot Shoma a blithe smile. Shoma laughed.

‘Oh, I noticed, I just thought we weren’t going to say anything so you didn’t get all self-conscious about it.’ Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘Hey, you’re not normal either, Shoma – stop gloating,’ he replied, flicking his hair out of his eyes and flashing Shoma a ridiculous smile. ‘You think normal ever got anyone anywhere anyway?! Normal is a nonsense concept; people shouldn’t be so worried about it – what does it even mean?’ He shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly to himself as he tapped in his laptop password and set his book down on the desk beside him.

‘Well, for a start it means people don’t stare at you as often,’ Shoma said and Yuzuru shot him a pouty glare. ‘You’d probably wilt without all that attention, though, so I can see how the concept might bother you.’ Shoma’s smile softened as he looked over at Yuzuru thoughtfully, and he nudged his elbow with his own, giving him a small shrug. ‘If it helps? I don’t want you to change. Like…ever.’ Yuzuru’s eyes shone and he nudged Shoma back, scrunching up his whole face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

‘Shoma,’ he let out in a soft, sweet voice and Shoma wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Shut up. You heard nothing,’ he shot back darkly, laughing despite himself, and Yuzuru smirked, nodding slowly.

‘That’s more like you,’ he said, turning his attention back to his computer screen. ‘You feeling better now?’ he asked, glancing briefly over at Shoma with a kind smile, and Shoma smiled back somewhat shyly, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug and looking back at his laptop for a moment.

‘Yeah. I am,’ he admitted in a small voice. ‘You’re like a magic trick,’ he murmured. Yuzuru nudged his elbow again, gentle and sweet, and Shoma looked back at him from the corner of his eye. ‘What, no lightning?’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘You’re sweet, you know that?’ he said softly. Shoma pulled a face but he knew Yuzuru saw the smile in his eyes so he quickly looked back over at his laptop, pretending to be fascinated by his own essay. ‘How many more words?’

‘A few hundred still. And I need a conclusion that doesn’t sound like I just wanted it over with.’

‘Tough. Since you just want it over with.’

‘Helpful, Yuzu.’

‘I’m not going to do your work for you.’

‘Then what use are you?!’

‘I know a good recipe for homemade hot chocolate, I can conjure fire without blinking and I always remember to bring my jacket to the library – at least one of these three things is something you definitely can’t do.’

‘Interesting CV, Thunder Boy.’

‘It’s certainly proved useful to you, I see.’

‘Go away. I was cold.’

‘So I won’t be getting my jacket back, then?’

‘Not if you value your life.’

‘Fair enough.’ The two of them glanced over at each other, sharing a steady look for a moment before breaking into laughter and quickly turning back to their respective computers.

 

They were quiet for a while longer, both happy to focus on their work in companionable silence just as they had before; every now and again one of them would issue some complaint about something they couldn’t understand in their notes, or a sentence they couldn’t make work, a power would reach or pull here or there, or their elbows would knock together as they shifted trying to get comfortable, but they didn’t interrupt each other’s concentration, managing to weave the little reminders of each other’s presence seamlessly into the background hum of the peace between them. Even though it was coursework in front of him rather than some show or game or mindless online distraction, Shoma didn’t feel like there was anything else he would rather be doing, anywhere else he would rather be. He could’ve happily spent hours inside the pleasant, obligation-free bubble Yuzuru provided him with – it was the sort of social situation he didn’t need to plan ahead of time or try to save up energy for. He wasn’t running on power reserves he didn’t have, or hoping for an excuse to get away, waiting for the moment when something was required of him that he didn’t understand; as dreamlike as it was in the garden after midnight, Shoma was realising more and more that the spell was between him and Yuzuru and not simply something weaved into the magic of the cherry trees and wildflowers. It was a spell of balance rather than one of magic, and it was a comfort to realise they maybe weren’t only drawn to each other because of power or things beyond their control, but because of something which was contained in their own conscious choices.

 

When Shoma finally felt his ability to process what he was writing starting to slip, he sat back a little, scanning over what he’d done so far; he wasn’t far off finishing, and without all the extra clutter in his head the task had quickly stopped seeming so oppressively vast. Even with a way left to go, he already felt himself breathing more easily and feeling more sure that he could meet the deadline ahead. He flicked a curious glance over at Yuzuru, taking in the quiet, studious version of him which was usually hidden away in the darkness of the lecture halls or the garden’s hazy dusks. It was a picture the press would’ve loved; he looked neat and put-together in his glasses, eyes dark and focused, fringe swept tidily across his forehead. But Shoma preferred to notice the little giveaways to his messy, unfinished edges that no press photographer would’ve allowed in – the way he tugged at his sleeve and fiddled with his headphone wire where it dangled around his neck, his fingers following a pattern along the cord that only he understood, twisting and wrapping and turning back as his head occasionally tipped or bobbed or nodded along with whatever he was reading in his book.

 

Shoma leant forward just a little, tilting his head to try and make out the title of the book which Yuzuru had spent most of his time studying, but the shabby gold lettering was hard to discern and he pulled a face, pushing his laptop back and letting himself slump forward, laying his head down on his folded arms.

‘What are you working on?’ he asked. Yuzuru looked up from the book, pulling out the one headphone he still had in and giving Shoma a cryptic smile, quirking one eyebrow mischievously.

‘You have time to worry about my work now?’ he joked and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Study breaks are important for concentration,’ he dismissed, trying to keep a straight face but knowing his eyes were betraying him. Yuzuru laughed, nodding slowly.

‘Very important, Shoma. So important you need me to have them too, right?’ Shoma shot him a dry smile.

‘Most people would just be grateful for the excuse to slack off for a while, Yuzu,’ he pointed out and Yuzuru smiled, his head tilting to one side then another as though he were weighing up his options.

‘And…would you say I’m most people, Shoma?’ he said. Shoma pulled a face.

‘No. But I would say even power-crazed demons need a rest now and then.’

‘Am I a demon this week, huh?’

‘I don’t know, but I could check the internet if you want?’ Shoma smirked and Yuzuru laughed, elbowing Shoma in his side.

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘I call you names all the time – it might be nice to go looking for some new material,’ Shoma shrugged, still smiling, and Yuzuru pretended to glare at him, hitting him lightly on the shoulder with his book. ‘You don’t like it then stop hanging out with me all the time,’ Shoma laughed and Yuzuru shook his head decisively.

‘Not happening,’ he said firmly, and Shoma couldn’t help but blush a little at the casual force of the statement, biting at his lip in an effort not to smile.

‘Fine. Then make hanging out with you worth my while, Hanyu. I need a distraction already – I’ve hit my coursework limit. What’s the book you’ve been inhaling all this time, huh?’

 

Yuzuru considered him a moment, a faint smile on his lips and something shining in his eyes.

‘Symbolism And Symbolic Connections In Power, Pathways And Our Understanding Of The Universe,’ he said carefully, closing the book around his fingers and showing Shoma the cover. Shoma stared back at him, blinking blankly, his lips a perfectly unimpressed line. When Yuzuru chose to simply stare him down with a smile of faux-innocence, Shoma let out an exasperated little laugh, widening his eyes at him for effect.

‘So that means…?’ he prompted, kicking Yuzuru’s shin beneath the desk and stifling a smirk when he kicked back sharply.

‘I’m learning about the sun,’ Yuzuru shrugged, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him sceptically. Yuzuru’s smile brightened. ‘It’s true,’ he insisted. ‘I’m not being cute,’ he added with a slight pout that made Shoma laugh.

‘Good, because it’s definitely not working,’ he grinned and Yuzuru shot him a dry look, his lips pursing as he tried to hold back a smile. ‘Stop sulking with me and explain already,’ Shoma smirked and Yuzuru let out a small laugh, nodding.

‘This book is about symbolism and how it connects to both magic and to the wider world,’ he explained, setting it down on the desk and resting his chin on his hand. ‘I’m trying to find something which might tell us more about why we’re the only ones with our power marks. I want to know if it means something about our powers. And if it helps make sense of why we’re the only two – if there’s some purpose there we’re missing by not knowing how these symbols are supposed to work together.’

‘And?’ Shoma asked, eyebrows raised. Yuzuru shrugged.

‘It’s complicated. I mean…no one knows what these symbols mean in relation to power because they’ve never been power marks before, so you have to try and look at the symbols in their own right and use how the book makes other connections to form a theory of what our power marks might be trying to tell us about how best to put our powers together.’ Shoma studied his face, eyes intent but unafraid. He recognised the expression he saw there; the starry eyes and smirking lips, a dark, intense mixture of delight and challenge which sat well on him.

‘That’s your dangerous face: that’s the face you make before you decide to make a thunderstorm out of nothing,’ Shoma said softly and Yuzuru’s lips twitched into an almost-smile. ‘That’s what you look like when people call you crazy: your “Think I can’t? Well just watch me!” face.’

‘And will you?’

‘Don’t I always?’

 

Yuzuru’s whole face was lit up then and Shoma felt the full force of it inside his chest. Yuzuru pushed his laptop back, resting his arms on the desk and leaning forward a little so that he and Shoma were huddling closer together; there was no one around but them, but Yuzuru was always drawing them closer, like Shoma’s presence was something precious he didn’t want to have to risk sharing – his power prickled a little bit, suddenly growing a little more intense in Shoma’s ears, and Shoma felt himself leaning in towards him instinctively, responding in kind to the outstretched hand of Yuzuru’s power and working hard to keep his smile down when he saw it register in Yuzuru’s eyes. Shoma lifted his head, resting his chin on his folded arms in order to meet his gaze, and Yuzuru offered him a smile. ‘So…do you think I’m crazy, Shoma? Is that what you’re going to call me if I tell you my ideas?’ Shoma considered it for a moment.

‘I mean…I call you crazy all the time. So the odds are good,’ he said at last. ‘But you’re the best kind of crazy. The wild, hopeful kind that usually gets the right results,’ he added then, shrugging a shoulder. ‘So you really think you’ve figured something out?’

‘Well…not enough to say I know what our powers might do if we found a way of using them together. Not yet. But there’s some simple, obvious stuff which I think is important.’

‘Like…?’ Shoma prompted. Yuzuru grinned, suddenly silly and giddy again – his enthusiasm was faintly absurd and hugely endearing and Shoma almost laughed.

‘Ok, so…what is the most obvious thing that wings do?’ he asked. Shoma scrunched his face up into a small frown.

‘Fly?’ he offered, and Yuzuru nodded vaguely, tipping his head just a fraction to one side in half-agreement and closing one eye as though he was trying to work out a sum in his head.

‘I mean, that’s the specific thing I guess. But the way this book talks about it is something more abstract: it’s giving direction to something, you know?’ Shoma nodded thoughtfully.

‘Kind of. The wings don’t do the flying, exactly; they make something else take flight.’

‘Right! And what is the most obvious thing the sun does?’ Off Shoma’s blank look Yuzuru laughed softly, bumping Shoma’s shoulder with his own. ‘It _shines_.’

 

Yuzuru’s eyes were glinting wildly, like something incredible had happened, but Shoma simply looked back at him, blank and vaguely confused.

‘Ok…so what?’ he ventured after a beat, and Yuzuru laughed again, pulling a face.

‘Nothing has just one chain of meaning, you know? So a symbol can maybe try to tell us more than one thing in more than one way. It can offer us an image of something that is more abstract; tied up in character and feelings and what this person may stand for in some way. But it can also give us a clue to the practical; the application of a person’s power and the way it fits into the world. To fully understand a power and what it might be capable of, you need its context first: you need to know what it is when it stands alone before you can consider where to place it in the wider picture.’

‘Translation?’ Shoma said with a slight wince. Yuzuru smiled, unoffended.

‘What does my power feel like to you, Shoma? Like it has a purpose?’ he asked, expression open and gentle. Shoma paused, considering the idea, tipping his head slightly and taking a moment to reach out for that familiar sensation. He closed his eyes, allowed himself to properly focus in on the feeling that buzzed all day at the edge of his senses, smiling slightly at its unusually placid response, as though Yuzuru were holding it out to him for inspection. He nodded slowly, opening his eyes again and offering Yuzuru a small smile.

‘Kind of,’ he said, scrunching his features up in thought. ‘I mean…it’s like there’s intention there. It’s wild…but only in the sense that it’s so unstoppably determined, like it’s sharp at the edges. Mostly though…it’s centred…controlled.’

‘Directed?’ Yuzuru offered, eyebrows raised, and Shoma smiled slightly, giving another considering nod.

‘Yeah. Pretty much.’ Yuzuru smiled.

‘So then I do have wings; I give direction to my power just like wings would give something flight.’ Shoma’s smile softened and he nodded again, biting his lip.

‘That…sounds right, actually.’ He paused, suddenly shy. ‘So …what’s my power like?’ he asked tentatively. Yuzuru’s grin was delighted and gentle, those eyes of his dancing again like he had been hoping Shoma would ask. It made Shoma’s ribcage feel full and tense.

‘Your power is gentle. But so profound,’ Yuzuru said with feeling, his voice little more than a rush of breath and the tenderness in his expression overwhelming. ‘There are no sharp edges because I can’t feel any edges to it at all. It is boundless. Infinite.’ Shoma swallowed, looking back at Yuzuru with wide, curious eyes, his breath scratchy, and Yuzuru’s eyes lit up as he leant in still further. ‘I told you there was a whole sun inside you because that’s what I feel. You shine. Always. I don’t know what that might mean, not in the bigger picture of the world and how our powers might fit. But I do know you feel like the warmest, brightest thing. You feel like infinite possibilities…and that is the best sort of magic.’

‘I know,’ Shoma murmured. ‘I know because you feel like possibilities too.’ He shrugged. ‘Or at least…you feel possible and impossible; improbable but definitely real, like anything could happen, because you already did.’ Yuzuru’s smile gentled and he nudged Shoma with his shoulder.

‘There is hope in possibilities, Shoma,’ he said sincerely, but Shoma pulled a face, dismissive.

‘Maybe in yours. But mine? There’s no start or ending to make any sense out of them; it’s not like limitless is always a good thing, Yuzu. My power’s chaos and yours is control. What use is chaos to anyone when the control is just as powerful and can actually be used with some sort of precision?’

 

Yuzuru considered him seriously for a beat, his features knitted into a frown that, on his face, almost looked like disapproval, but Shoma knew him well enough now to see the concern that was really behind it, the heavy intensity of feeling that it really betrayed.

‘You’re not chaos, Shoma,’ Yuzuru said earnestly, a warmth in his eyes that was genuine and comforting. ‘No one wants for a source of light in the darkness to be something controlled; they want to be filled up by it, to feel it might never stop.’ He shrugged, glancing down. ‘You are the heart, the source – to me, that’s what you are. Chaos is cruel and unpredictable, but the sun is a fixed point in the centre of everything.’ Shoma looked back up, slow and shy, and Yuzuru’s lips curved up, lopsided and sweet. ‘You turn the universe inside you. To me, that’s what I feel in you.’ Shoma swallowed hard, his chest tight and his expression unguarded and open as he met the full force of Yuzuru’s gaze.

‘Then I guess you’re the gravity that keeps it all together,’ he whispered, dark eyes drifting over the now-familiar curves of Yuzuru’s face as it shifted from quiet to wild in a heartbeat. ‘An inescapable force.’ Yuzuru beamed at him, nudging his arm gently.

‘So then maybe we should see it this way: you shine and I strike. Now there might be something useful in that, right?’ he asked, and Shoma let out a small laugh, the moment between them breaking into something lighter as they both leant back a little from each other.

‘But what? Your book got any suggestions on that yet or is this the part where you come up with some outrageous idea to help us figure it out?’ Shoma asked and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose, huffing out a frustrated little sigh and throwing up his hands.

‘Outrageous?! What would be outrageous if it was based on logic, huh? Shoma, why do you always call me these names? Why am I always wild or ridiculous or silly to you?!’ he teased and Shoma smirked.

‘It’s not cruel if it’s just the truth: you’re a nonsense of a person, and I call it how I see it.’ He shrugged as best he could without sitting up, letting his head drop back down again and regarding Yuzuru from under his lashes. ‘But you’re probably the best person I know…because of it and not despite it.’ Yuzuru smiled softly, eyes shining.

‘This is good to know, Shoma,’ he said gently. ‘Although, you should be certain of this: _you’re_ the best person _I_ know, whatever names you are calling me today.’ Shoma’s lips twisted into a wry smile.

‘And you know a lot of people, so I must be pretty special, right?’ he joked.

‘You are,’ Yuzuru said simply, and Shoma’s breath caught a little at the sudden depth of feeling in his voice. Yuzuru’s expression was placid and quiet, but Shoma felt his lightning creeping up on him and he shivered slightly, drawing himself in a little tighter.

‘Quit it, Show Off,’ he muttered with a wry smile.

 

Yuzuru laughed, flopping back down so he was sitting in a mirror of Shoma’s pose and letting out a tired sigh.

‘I need the distraction: I don’t want to go back to my project – I hate trying to research anything to do with crossing power classifications. It’s so hard.’ He pouted, a light blush creeping up high on his cheeks. ‘Almost all the studies on using powers from all classifications are written about me so…it’s…weird,’ he admitted then, and Shoma tried not to laugh. Yuzuru shot him a half-hearted glare. ‘It’s a problem, ok? Stop laughing at me,’ he added as Shoma lost in his battle to keep a straight face.

‘But you make it so easy to!’ he teased, laughing harder when Yuzuru kicked his ankle lightly. ‘You’re basically one big weird problem, you know that?’ he said, his voice teasing and sympathetic at the same time, and Yuzuru made a short, small noise at the back of his throat that Shoma took as half-hearted objection. He lifted his head, resting his chin on his hands to better meet his eyes. ‘You wear it pretty well, I think,’ he added in a murmur and Yuzuru’s expression gentled into something quiet and fond. ‘Everyone is always so busy trying to point to the strings and claim they’ve “solved” you that they miss the real magic: you’re just as glued-back-together as everyone else, but you’re still standing, like being fragile is a weapon and not a flaw. Or maybe like it’s both and that’s ok.’

‘Anyone ever tell you that you have a way with words, Sho?’

‘No. They mostly just tell me I’m adorable and ruffle my hair,’ Shoma shot back with a roll of his eyes. Yuzuru’s expression turned mischievous.

‘Well you _are_ adorable,’ he grinned. Shoma winced in anticipation as Yuzuru planted a hand on top of his head, leaning in with a twinkling grin. ‘But…you’re so much more besides,’ he added earnestly, even as his fingers mussed up Shoma’s hair, and he laughed when Shoma tried to duck away. He flopped back in his chair and Shoma shot him a playful glare, trying to smooth down the damage to his hair.

‘That was almost sweet until you went and ruined it,’ Shoma muttered, but he knew Yuzuru caught his blush.

 

The sound of Yuzuru’s phone chiming with a message interrupted the quiet, and he sat up, leaning over his desk to where his phone was lying. He looked down at the screen for a moment before pulling a face, leaning back in his chair again, suddenly tense and taught, something stormy in his eyes.

‘Javi wants to know if I’m coming to the meeting today,’ he sighed. Shoma quirked an eyebrow.

‘And that’s bad because…?’ Yuzuru looked over at him, his smile lopsided and a little sad.

‘Because I have to, but I don’t want to.’ He shrugged. ‘Javi knows this, that’s why he’s messaging me – it’s what he does to show he feels sorry for me without giving me pity-looks,’ he added then, rolling his eyes somewhat fondly.

‘Why don’t you want to go to the meeting?’ Shoma asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at Yuzuru, assessing and calm. ‘Has Brian told you what it’s going to be about already and you don’t want to hear it?’ he guessed. Yuzuru nodded somewhat begrudgingly, glancing over at Shoma with a hint of a smile.

‘Pretty much,’ he conceded softly.

 

He gazed at Shoma for a moment, sad and thoughtful, and Shoma allowed him the time to think; he trusted Yuzuru not to lie to him, but he didn’t need his honesty at the cost of his having the room to organise his thoughts. ‘I’m probably going to have to go to Singapore. Brian is still going over the lists and the itinerary right now with the organisers, so nothing is final…but my coming is non-negotiable to the people involved, it always goes that way. None of us ever get a say in whether or not we’re chosen…but most people don’t get chosen every time. So I have even less choice, it seems. But this is one time I wish I could decide my own fate, because I know it’s become such a complicated situation. There’s an emergency summit in Malaysia added on to it all, and more is expected from the Foundation’s visit because of it. I don’t know if I can live up to what they want from me – but Brian won’t tell me what they want from me anyway, so I shouldn’t think about it, I suppose.’

‘But you can’t help it, because you think about everything,’ Shoma supplied, sympathetic, and Yuzuru smiled slightly, nodding.

‘It would be nice if I could say no, just once. Brian has control over the whole thing; most people, if he thinks they are not in the right frame of mind to go, he would take it into consideration and argue their case with those involved. But he can’t do that for me: the Japanese government expects me there, and both Singapore and Malaysia would see it as a slight if I wasn’t included when I always have been before. But it just feels like…so much, right now. I know that there is responsibility on my shoulders to be a walking argument for our cause: I don’t just have to show that maybe powers can save us all from the Grey Zones, I have to show that the Foundation is where people with those powers are best placed.’

 

Shoma reached out, taking Yuzuru’s hand and giving it a firm squeeze, and Yuzuru looked up, meeting his eyes slowly, his own eyes dark and shining with a profound mixture of hope and determination that made Shoma’s skin prickle and his lips curve into a smile.

‘Wanting one Sunday to pretend in isn’t wrong, Yuzu,’ he said kindly. ‘Even you’re allowed time off from hearing everyone else’s bad news; it doesn’t mean you’re hiding from the responsibility as long as you still go on the trip.’ Yuzuru lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

‘Maybe not, but I think Brian would be disappointed that I couldn’t put my feelings aside to save face for him at this meeting,’ he said quietly. ‘People will ask so many more questions if I’m not there, and it undermines him if it looks like I’m sulking with him over it. It’s expected of me to look prepared and hopeful and determined, not just for people outside the Foundation, but for people inside too.’ Shoma squeezed his hand again.

‘And you will. But you still have a little time before you have to pull it together, right?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t need you to be anything,’ he said earnestly, flashing Yuzuru a languid smile. ‘Except maybe hungry, because I have a serious need for fries that isn’t going to go away any time soon. If you come get some with me then I could maybe be persuaded to keep you company at the meeting…’ he added impishly, and Yuzuru laughed, lifting his hand to smack Shoma lightly on the arm. Shoma grinned unashamed. ‘Fine, be like that: but I won’t share my fries with you!’

‘Like you ever share your food,’ Yuzuru smirked and Shoma pulled a face at him.

‘Shut up and pack your stuff away, Hanyu. We’re getting junk food before this meeting and you’re cheering up already: it’s decided, no arguments for once.’

 

The two of them began clearing away, still jostling each other playfully, shooting sidelong glances and sly smiles back and forth; Shoma didn’t want to think about Yuzuru leaving, but he wasn’t about to burden him by telling him he’d miss him – he didn’t want to place any more weight on his shoulders than he already felt, and it was selfish to want Yuzuru’s company so badly when the whole world needed his power. Yuzuru elbowed him in the ribs as they stood to leave, and he looked up at him curiously.

‘I’ll miss you, you know,’ he said gently and Shoma bit his lip, gazing thoughtfully up into Yuzuru’s face – there was sadness and honesty and wistfulness all caught up in the expression, but Shoma was most drawn to the ever-present light in his eyes, brilliant and glittering just like always, that unrelenting stubborn streak of his running beneath the fragile faultlines of his skin. He nudged him back lightly, offering a small smile and a shrug.

‘Maybe the good thing about secrets is that they don’t really care about distance: they keep you close to the people you’ve shared them with no matter where you are. In a crowded room or across an ocean – it doesn’t matter. You can touch a piece of them without even seeing their face; you are always alone together, because they will always know the you that no one else can, and other people can’t even see it. It’s something close you can carry with you always and take out when you’re feeling lonely, to remind you you’re not really alone.’ Yuzuru’s eyes seemed to gleam brighter still, his lips curving into a wider smile.

‘So…have you ever had an electric shock across an ocean, Shoma?’ he asked, mischievous and warm, and Shoma laughed, rolling his eyes.

‘You ever had your own lightning bounced right back in your face because you’re a giant pain?’ he shot back and Yuzuru grinned.

‘Oh, this is a trick I would like to see,’ he clapped and Shoma elbowed him, smothering a grin.

‘Urgh – who even _likes_ the idea of a lightning bolt to the face, Yuzu? You’re the worst friend.’

‘You keep telling me this, Shoma, yet you keep spending time with me anyway. Now stop complaining and hurry up – you won’t have time for fries if we don’t go now, and we both know how grumpy you’ll be if that happens.’

 

It didn’t surprise Shoma that they ended up being some of the earliest people to arrive in the courtyard; Yuzuru’s idea of late was being less than ten minutes early and he walked everywhere at speed, like he was constantly on a mission. Shoma didn’t mind; he was happy to trail in his wake, mildly amused and throwing fries into his mouth. They had settled in Yuzuru’s usual spot towards the back of the courtyard, sitting side by side on the pool wall; Yuzuru was sitting cross legged, his bony kneecap occasionally digging into Shoma’s thigh as the two of them fought over Shoma’s fries, Yuzuru attempting to steal them in increasingly dramatic ways. Shoma knew that soon Yuzuru’s wildly powerful group of friends would start to descend on them, taking their places up around him as though Shoma wasn’t even there, but for once he didn’t want to slope away and pretend he didn’t belong. At some point, Shoma realised, the two of them had become a team – a package deal – and it was a sense of belonging he was going to miss when Yuzuru left for Singapore. Shoma wasn’t sure how long it would be before they could have another carefree Sunday being silly and acting their age; he knew Yuzuru would come back with fresh worries and a head full of things he couldn’t tell anyone else, and Shoma had become all too reliant on his nights in the garden for keeping his own head quiet. He wanted to pretend – whilst they still could – that they were just two ordinary people wasting a weekend, and Yuzuru seemed to want that too.

 

Shoma was almost annoyed when he saw Javier ambling towards them across the courtyard; it was the sign that their time was up, Shoma’s cue to close himself up a little more and sacrifice some of the force of Yuzuru’s attention. It was hard to muster any real anger for Javier – his smile was rough and warm and his eyes were all friendly mischief – but still Shoma couldn’t help the slight pull of disappointment in his chest.

‘Hey, Yuzu, tell me: have you sworn in this guy as your new best friend yet? Because you didn’t say I needed to hand in my badge or anything…’ Javier said as he came up to join them, waggling his eyebrows teasingly at Yuzuru, who pulled a face at him.

‘Like you don’t have a million other friends of your own,’ he shot back. ‘Besides, how short of an attention span do you think I have that I can’t have more than one close friend?’

‘You definitely don’t want me to answer that question,’ Javier laughed and Yuzuru scrunched his face up into a childish pout.

‘I take it back: maybe we’re not friends after all,’ he said with a slight shake of his head, elbowing Javier in his side as he sat down beside him. ‘It’s not important anyway; Shoma doesn’t have a label, he’s Shoma – there is no one else like him, and no one who is what he is to me,’ he added more gently, and Shoma looked over at him in surprise. He’d said it like it was nothing – like he was commenting on the weather or something he’d read in a textbook – but there was a look in his eyes that made Shoma’s breath catch a little and Yuzuru’s shoulder knocked softly against his own to add a certain conspiratorial tone to the remark. Shoma smiled, small and almost shy; he was aware of Javier looking curiously between the two of them, and he flicked his hair out of his eyes self-consciously, mustering a dismissive expression and knocking Yuzuru’s shoulder back more playfully.

‘Is there some sort of badge for that too? Because I’m not sure that it’ll all fit without the writing being tiny,’ he said with a sly smirk. Yuzuru suppressed a grin, rolling his eyes at him, and Javier laughed, bright and approving.

‘I think maybe you should get a t-shirt for it Shoma; it’s worth it, for sure,’ he told him with an impish wink, and Shoma laughed around a mouthful of fries, rude and unapologetic.

‘Is there a points system too? Can I get rewards for completing tasks?’ he asked. Yuzuru smacked at him.

‘There is a medal for whoever is quiet the fastest – how does that sound?!’ he scolded both of them, though his glittering eyes gave him away and they both simply laughed at him. ‘I have terrible friends,’ he lamented, throwing up his hands in a show of despair, and Shoma held out his fries by way of a peace offering. Yuzuru smiled back at him fondly. ‘What, you’re not going to make me fight for it?’ he asked and Shoma shrugged.

‘I’m thinking whatever the top-tier friendship level is has the best perks, so I’m going all-out,’ he grinned. Yuzuru laughed softly, leaning against Shoma and dipping his head to Shoma’s shoulder in a peculiar almost-hug before picking up a fry and biting into it.

‘Don’t get grease on my jacket and you can have all the friendship perks,’ he remarked idly and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Now you’re just being unreasonable.’ He and Yuzuru shared a look for a moment before laughing and glancing away.

 

Shoma shook his head and went back to scrolling through the string of updates he’d received from his brother on the torture of the family meal, and Javier slid a little closer to Yuzuru, leaning in to give his shoulder a gentle nudge.

‘So, are you ready for this?’ he asked him, lowering his voice just a little, and Shoma shot the two of them a sidelong glance; Yuzuru’s weight was still shifted a little more towards Shoma than Javier, despite Javier’s conspiratorial tone, and he shrugged nonchalantly in reply.

‘What’s to be ready for?’ he asked, not bothering to whisper, and Javier arched an eyebrow. ‘We all know what Brian’s going to say already, right?’ Yuzuru continued somewhat sulkily, his nose wrinkled up and his head rolling back a little, and Shoma almost smirked. Yuzuru always allowed himself to be more of a child in Javier’s company, and it was almost comical to see him indulgently sink into the part. The true reward of being brought into Yuzuru’s inner circle was that he would happily reveal to you just how annoying he could be; another little clue to his humanity Shoma revelled in. Javier didn’t seem quite so enamoured, however, rolling his eyes and giving Yuzuru an elbow to the ribs.

‘Do we? All know, I mean?’ Javier asked, nodding his head towards Shoma so unsubtly it was laughable. Shoma pulled a face at him, rolling his eyes.

‘You want me to put my headphones on whilst the teacher’s pets  have a conference?’ he offered, deadpan.

‘Hey, I’m no teacher’s pet,’ Javier protested and Yuzuru smirked.

‘No, he’s the teacher’s headache most of the time – although we both know you’re Brian’s favourite,’ he pointed out.

‘Personally, I don’t think Brian has a favourite. He’s just known me the longest – the Spanish government hadn’t got a clue what to do with me,’ Javier shrugged, glancing at Shoma with a wry smile. ‘Brian got brought in as a consultant for how to deal with the kid who kept bringing his drawings to life at school way before the Foundation was even a possibility,’ he explained. Yuzuru nodded.

‘Javi once filled a playground with matchstick men,’ he remarked casually. ‘They got loose and started running around the town scaring the life out of people, and the Spanish authorities had never had anyone that powerful before so they thought they should maybe ask a specialist about how to get Javi’s powers under control.’

‘Brian did a lot of consultation work back then,’ Javier nodded. ‘But he liked working on my case a lot and I probably got more of his time than most; he felt sorry for me because my power stuck out like a sore thumb in Spain, we just don’t have so many powerful people, you know? We are not like Japan.’ Javier shrugged then, looking at Yuzuru fondly. ‘I was maybe the second or third person he brought to the Foundation? We already knew we could work together by then. But this one…?’ he teased, poking at Yuzuru, who pulled a face.

‘Yeah, Brian had had to stick to learning about me from the news stories,’ he put in. ‘He was scared of me when we first met,’ he laughed softly, and Javier grinned at Shoma’s sceptical expression.

‘It’s true,’ he smiled. ‘He used to have me come every time he went to talk to him – like Yuzu needed a playmate or something so he wouldn’t bite,’ he laughed. ‘I mean, he worked out pretty quickly that Yuzu was a sweet kid, but…I think that was mostly thanks to Tracy telling him to stop being so ridiculous and just treat him like a normal person instead of a-’

‘A headline?’ Shoma suggested. Yuzuru shot him a smile, giving Shoma light nudge with his elbow.

‘Brian’s never treated any of us as anything other than people; he sees our powers second, most of the time. It wasn’t so bad with Yuzu, he just had his brain kind of fried by the crazy government secrecy and all the media and forgot there was a person behind all the madness for a bit. He got over it before the end of the first week, I think. And now he makes up for it by being the most protective of all of us when it comes to Yuzu,’ Javier said. ‘Which brings me back to my original point…’ he added then, narrowing his eyes at Yuzuru, whose expression soured a little.

‘I don’t want to think about it, Javi,’ he complained.

 

Javier flicked a glance over at Shoma, arching an eyebrow. ‘I’m guessing Yuzu told you about Singapore then?’ he asked him. Shoma shrugged, looking between Yuzuru and Javier somewhat uncomfortably.

‘If I say no does that get me out of having to referee the fight you two are about to get into?’ he whined. Yuzuru smiled at him somewhat fondly, flicking his arm before turning back to Javier with a pout.

‘There wouldn’t be a fight to referee if Javi would just pick any other topic than this one,’ he muttered, and Javier shot him a half-hearted glare.

‘You could try looking at it another way you know: there are people here who wish they would be invited in your place. Some people here would see it as something special to be asked to a summit, to hear first-hand what developments may be happening and to take part in livestreams and power demonstrations in front of the world’s press. Some people would just be excited for the chance to see a new city and have a change of scene. It is an honour to be trusted with these things, you know?’ Yuzuru huffed, looking down into the pool with dark, sad eyes.

‘Sure, it’s an honour to walk into a warzone; people should be careful what they wish for,’ he replied. Shoma raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s that bad?’ he asked. Javier winced slightly but Yuzuru simply shrugged, looking up at him with a faint smile.

‘It’s not as though there’s progress to show. For that? Every government blames every bigger government, then every bigger government blames the scientists, then the scientists blame the funding people, so the funding people blame the way the Foundation is spending the money, which makes the media blame Brian and the board here, and the board here find ways to make it all Brian’s fault and no one else’s. And all we get to do is sit there in the middle of it, not even defending ourselves or Brian because it’s not our place to speak. All we have to do is look smart in our blazers and nod and shake hands – and maybe demonstrate a few dumb power tricks, like that’s a good use of our time and our energy,’ he explained, rolling his eyes.

‘Then why do they ask anyone with powers to these things in the first place?’ Shoma frowned. ‘Wouldn’t it make more sense to invite the researchers, or just Brian and the board?’ Yuzuru hummed, considering it for a moment.

‘Well, they do like to see some power demonstrations and experiments, and the people from research can’t show them that. But I suppose what they really want is to inspect their troops; that’s why Brian takes his most powerful people, so these people who don’t understand can kid themselves that action might solve what they think talk hasn’t.’ Shoma’s features pinched into a concerned frown.

‘So Dai was right the other day? When he said the Foundation is building an army now?’ he asked meekly and Yuzuru offered him a thin, kind smile.

‘Not as far as Brian is concerned,’ he said. Javier pulled a face.

‘At the moment he has to nod and smile and tell these governments one thing to their faces whilst doing another thing behind their backs; it is a difficult balance,’ he sighed. ‘Brian is an honest person, but he’s being forced to play all these games by an impatient world.’ Yuzuru nodded.

‘He has to make it look like he’s playing along with them at all costs – it’s the only way to make sure they will still let him have the freedom to do what he is really, truly doing here.’

‘Which is trying to find a _peaceful_ solution where no one gets hurt. He would close the Foundation doors tomorrow if anything we do here caused bloodshed, you know? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself,’ Javier said.

 

Shoma shuddered and Yuzuru gave his arm a small squeeze; he didn’t offer empty platitudes about it not coming to that, but his calm washed over Shoma all the same and he flashed him a small, grateful smile. Feeling thunderclouds on the edges of your consciousness shouldn’t be so soothing, but to Shoma it was strangely welcome relief; it quietened his mind, having Yuzuru’s power to focus in on, and Yuzuru offered it without hesitation, like he knew.

‘All these new people coming so quickly now, Brian is still choosing them with his own aims in mind, but he is having to bring them in much sooner than he would like,’ Yuzuru said quietly. ‘He still has his way of manipulating it though: he picks more from Japan and Canada because he knows these governments will only send those who are ready and suitable, he leans towards Artists and Healers where he can and he takes the character of all people, especially Warriors, into careful consideration before allowing them to come.’

‘Everything is more complicated than it used to be, so he has to be careful how he goes about presenting our work here. Part of our job in attending state visits and conferences and summits is really more in-house than it looks to the press. We go there to fight Brian’s corner for him: if Brian takes Yuzu to a summit and has him demonstrate his powers, then Brian shows off the high numbers we have in our ranks now, they put it together in their heads and imagine everyone doing what Yuzu can do. From there, they picture what they want: a war, a showdown, a solution of their own absurd design. It gets them off Brian’s case long enough for him to come back here and actually work with us the way he wants for a while without any scrutiny. It gives him the space to actually go on training us to think above all else – to only fight if it is an intelligent fight and to try everything possible before we take the desperate measures these governments are imagining,’ Javier put in.

‘What exactly do they imagine us fighting though?’ Shoma asked somewhat nervously. Javier’s expression darkened a little and Yuzuru looked down quickly.

‘The Snatchers? The darkness? Who knows for sure what goes on in these people’s minds,’ Javier said grimly. ‘But it won’t come to it; Brian won’t allow it. He’s seen how hopeless a battle that would be and he never wants to have to face that kind of bleak outlook ever again.’

 

Shoma’s gaze went immediately to Yuzuru, who was staring down into the pool behind them with exhausted eyes, biting at his bottom lip; Shoma could see the memories in his gaze, could see the trouble etched into his skin. He traced a gentle finger along the back of his hand, his touch feather-light even as he pushed forcefully against him with his power. Yuzuru looked up immediately, meeting Shoma’s gaze in that way that made him feel electric – thunder rumbled across the surface of his skin and he had to work not to shiver against it, to keep the force of his own energy steady and turned outwards. Javier looked between the two of them with his eyes narrowed just a little, his forehead drawn into a faint frown, as though he could tell he was missing something and he was trying to unpick what it was.

‘Wait…Shoma…do you…you actually _know_?’ he said slowly, his gaze piercing as it settled on Shoma’s face, realisation in his eyes. Shoma shrugged awkwardly and Yuzuru shot. Javier a reproachful look.

‘Just because the press never found out doesn’t make it a secret,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘People here talk all the time; you talk to people about it often enough when you’re complaining about how much you worry about me.’ Javier’s expression turned briefly stormy and Shoma shrank back a little from the sudden rolling tension between the two of them.

‘You were the colour of wet clay when Brian brought you back here, Yuzu – we didn’t know if you would ever be the same again. Brian went two hours thinking he’d lost you for good, and even once he’d found you again he had to hear Tracy tell him she wasn’t sure healing would be enough to save you.’ Shoma let his finger drag a little across Yuzuru’s knuckles, light but purposeful; he saw the muscles of his face untense in response, saw his body sag just a little as he closed his eyes for a beat. ‘We worry and we talk because you scared the hell out of us – don’t blame me for Shoma finding out your secrets,’ Javier muttered, shaking his head and looking away with a terse sigh.

 

Shoma looked down, playing idly with zip of Yuzuru’s jacket and chewing at his lip self-consciously. Javier didn’t know the half of what Shoma knew, let alone who had told him, and it added weight to the responsibility Shoma felt in knowing it at all.

‘Actually, _I_ told Shoma,’ Yuzuru said crisply into the quiet. Javier looked up at him sharply, surprised, and Shoma tensed again. Yuzuru swallowed, looking up at the sky with a sad little huff. ‘He was the first person to ever just ask for my side of the story – not “What were you thinking?” or “How did you face The Snatchers?” or “You’re ok now, right?”, but just for what happened, for how I felt about it. Like I was a person, not a glass vase to be glued back together and kept on the shelf forever in case I broke again.’

 

Shoma drew an absent pattern on the back of Yuzuru’s hand, his mind turning over it all in the uneasy quiet that had fallen over the three of them. He felt Javier’s eyes on him but he refused to meet his gaze – he wasn’t going to try and make him feel better for not asking, not when he was the very person who had warned him not to forget that Yuzuru was only human. Yuzuru shivered slightly, turning his gaze back to the pool, and Javier looked over at him, the frustration melting away from his expression instantly.

‘That’s not why we didn’t ask, Yuzu,’ he said softly.

‘It was. But that’s ok,’ Yuzuru sighed deeply, shrugging. ‘Maybe I wouldn’t have told you anyway,’ he admitted. Shoma kept his gaze turned down, still doodling absently with his fingertip along Yuzuru’s skin.

‘Maybe not,’ Javier said quietly, looking back to Shoma. ‘You told me the truth that night, hey? You do listen,’ he sighed. Shoma offered an approximation of a smile, eyes narrowing just a little as though the picture he was drawing with his fingers were a masterpiece he couldn’t afford to turn away from.

‘You look for a person’s stories the same way you look for anything else that’s lost; you retrace their footsteps and turn their pockets inside out, you pull out all the old boxes under the bed and shine a torch around the attic. You pick all the locks that have no keys any longer and brush the dust off every surface. Only to find that, one day, when you stay still and stop searching long enough, you wake up…and what you were looking for just falls out from between a stack of old papers or a rumple in the sheets.’ Shoma managed a small shrug. ‘It’s not a big deal. It’s just…the way I think.’

‘Perhaps it is a bigger deal than you realise,’ Javier suggested gently, eyeing Yuzuru with warm, compassionate eyes and a thoughtful smile. ‘I’m glad someone thought to go through the pockets after all. It was a job none of us faced up to, I suppose.’ Yuzuru rolled his eyes.

‘Stop being contrite, it doesn’t suit you,’ he offered softly, giving Javier a small smile, and Javier laughed, nudging him slightly.

 

Shoma bit at his lip again, his features drawing into a frown; his mind had been quietly turning something over without him really realising it, and he felt he should draw it out before the moment was lost.

‘I know it probably makes no difference to any of this…but I don’t think The Snatchers are looking for a fight,’ he ventured quietly. Yuzuru and Javier both turned to look at him and he swallowed, meeting Yuzuru’s eyes cautiously, knowing that if anyone could unscramble his thoughts it would be him. ‘You said they were like a void, right? They weren’t getting anything out of the colours or your power, but they were drawn to it.’ Yuzuru nodded slowly, his eyes studying Shoma’s face intently as he began to catch on to the thread of his thought. ‘So maybe they’re not drawn to it because they mean to take it, but because they just can’t help it; like they’re trying to get out of their own shadow and they can’t.’ Shoma shrugged somewhat helplessly, looking at Yuzuru in the hope he was still following. ‘You know sometimes, maybe you’re trying to look at something, but the shadow you cast never lets the sun get through enough to see it properly: you’re the thing keeping it in the shade…’ Yuzuru smiled slightly, looking at Shoma like he was the most amazing thing, eyes so piercing Shoma shuddered.

‘They’re an effect more than a cause; they take to try and undo themselves,’ he murmured, glancing at Javier. ‘A rip gets bigger and bigger until someone stitches it up, but it doesn’t do it with any intention, it doesn’t see itself as a source of destruction. It is the wider structure that is weakened by some outside force, the rip is just it breaking beneath pressure – the effect but not the original cause.’

‘But…what force is great enough to be slicing human-shaped holes in the universe?’ Javier frowned. Yuzuru shrugged.

‘I don’t know, but it’s a theory, right? It makes more sense than anything anyone in research has ever come up with for why The Snatchers take the colours. Shoma’s right: they are empty. They are an absence, not an answer. They snuff the colours out, but…they are a rip in the world, Javi. How can they be their own cause? Every shadow is cast by something.’

 

Javier looked at Shoma for a moment, his lips curving into a rough smile before he glanced back at Yuzuru thoughtfully.

‘I guess we really should’ve faced up to asking you for your point of view sooner, huh?’ he sighed. Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘Enough. You all had your reasons for not wanting to talk about it – you were as exhausted by it as I was, in your own ways,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Besides, Shoma’s way of looking at things is different to anyone else’s. I couldn’t explain it to you like I could to him; not exactly. No one has ever really understood my power to sense before.’

‘And Shoma does?’ Javier asked, sounding genuinely curious rather than suspicious, and Shoma chewed a little more nervously at his lip, shrinking back. Yuzuru glanced over at him with a soft, secret smile, his eyes twinkling.

‘Shoma understands a lot of things other people don’t,’ he said softly, giving his arm a reassuring bump with his shoulder. ‘That’s why I say you are just Shoma; there is no other way to describe you,’ he said sincerely. ‘Sometimes now, I don’t think “I want to talk to a friend, to a teacher, to no one at all”, I think “I want to talk to a Shoma” – and the only problem with that is that I am certain you are the only one.’ Shoma smiled slightly, shaking his head.

‘The common thread is that you always want to talk,’ he dismissed, but he knew Yuzuru saw the gleam in his eyes and he leant against him just a little.

‘Words are Yuzuru’s secret power that everyone takes for granted – even those of us who should know better, sometimes,’ Javier offered with a wry smile.

 

The courtyard was beginning to fill up, people drifting in from every corner of the Foundation and bringing in waves of power and emotion along with them. Shoma was trying his best to absorb the blows, but he was tired and in no real mood to be social, so it took an effort to keep his expression impassive. He knew Yuzuru caught the slight wince in his face, the way the muscles there had grown a little more taught; he seemed to have learned the choreography required to move around Shoma’s energy’s limitations with easy grace and, without missing a beat, he had drawn Javier into a conversation to which Shoma could make no contribution, giving Shoma the perfect excuse to pick his phone back up and zone out for a while. By the time he looked up again their little trio was more or less surrounded by the usual suspects; Nobu and Takahito were talking to Yuzuru, whilst Alex, Maia and Javier were all looking at something on Alex’s phone with delighted expressions, Misha and Evgenia were sitting a little way along the pool wall, gesturing wildly with their hands as they debated something, occasionally glancing over to where Yuzuru was, clearly dying to share some story with him and some of the Canadians and Europeans who Shoma didn’t know so well had also appeared, mostly clustering together on the outer edges of the group. Sitting by Yuzuru felt like sitting in the centre of everything; people flew around him like moths finding one solitary flame still burning on some cold and dreary midnight, dipping and flittering around each other and over each other for just the briefest feeling of his warmth, and Yuzuru lit up for them in turn, ceaselessly garrulous and enthusiastic. Yet still he didn’t move from Shoma’s side, kept his pointy knees and elbows never more than a moment away from jostling and prodding and pressing at him, kept the sound of his drums gentle but insistent in Shoma’s ears. Yuzuru made him belong; he insisted on it.

 

Across on the opposite side of the courtyard, his usual group of friends was gathering: Boyang and Nathan waved across at him and he offered them a small wave in return, laughing when Boyang gestured towards Yuzuru and pretended to swoon, whilst Nathan raised his eyebrows knowingly at Yuzuru’s closeness to Shoma’s side and nodded like he’d figured something out. Satoko mimed some sort of question over the space that Shoma couldn’t follow and then threw her hands up in frustration at his confusion before getting her phone out and settling on messaging him instead, and Keiji simply nodded pleasantly across to him before sitting down in his usual spot, because he was apparently Shoma’s only normal friend.

 

‘Shoma!’ Shoma looked up from his phone to see Jason come bounding towards him, flinging himself down into the slim gap beside him on the pool wall. ‘Where’ve you been hiding?! I haven’t seen you since Wednesday lectures,’ he beamed. Shoma shrugged.

‘I’ve been…around,’ he replied lamely. He was grateful that Jason offered such easy, genuine acceptance; he was never offended by Shoma’s biting humour or his tendency to drop out for a while, and he was always full of ready smiles whenever they met.

‘Coursework, right? You were complaining about coursework last time we talked,’ Jason nodded kindly. ‘How’s it going – you think you’re going to make the deadline?’ Yuzuru looked across at him then, catching Shoma’s eye and raising his eyebrows, pulling a face of exaggerated anticipation which made Shoma smile. Shoma looked back at Jason with a sheepish shrug and a vague bob of his head.

‘I mean…it’s probably awful, but I think I’m going to have something to hand in at least,’ he said. Jason clapped and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh at him. ‘No, don’t reward me for being a disaster – I should’ve got it done ages ago, but I’d forgotten all about it until the professor sent a reminder around last weekend and scared the hell out of me.’ Jason grinned, patting his shoulder, whilst Yuzuru simply shot him a sly smile.

‘You say it like this is all so simple now, Shoma, but I thought last night the only solutions involved drama and strife?’

‘Are you recording our conversations for evidence or something?’ Shoma grumbled, smiling despite himself, and Yuzuru laughed.

‘Why, should I be?!’ he teased. Jason grinned at them, rolling his eyes.

‘Hey: it’s almost done, that’s what’s important here! These things happen, right?! And I think having something to hand in to your professor is worth a clap, for the record,’ he assured Shoma brightly, before suddenly a small frown creased his features. ‘Um…Shoma…when did you change your name to Yuzuru Hanyu?’ he said slowly, turning his head to double-check he hadn’t misread the name on Shoma’s sleeve and plucking at the jacket playfully. Shoma frowned, confused for a moment, before he realised he was still wearing Yuzuru’s jacket and pulled a face.

‘When I thought there was a chance it would get me the mixture of fear and respect I truly deserve?’ he suggested, glancing at Yuzuru for a moment and flicking his arm in a show of irritation when he saw he was trying not to laugh. ‘There was that, but also it might have been freezing in the library and my jacket could possibly have been left back in my room,’ he added, and Yuzuru playfully rested his chin on Shoma’s shoulder.

‘Shoma is a terrible thief,’ he told Jason brightly and Shoma rolled his eyes, smothering a smirk as he elbowed him off.

‘Yeah, it’s a real wild crime syndicate I’m running here, Yuzu,’ he shot back dryly. ‘Your pockets don’t even have any money in.’

‘Oh, but you checked though?’ Yuzuru laughed. ‘Be grateful I didn’t mention you’re also just plain lazy.’

‘It’s a long walk from the library to my room; I’m on a coursework deadline, Yuzu,’ Shoma sighed, swatting his arm away when he reached across to grab one of the last of Shoma’s fries. ‘Hey, who’s supposed to be the criminal mastermind here?’ Shoma protested, struggling with Yuzuru for a moment and laughing helplessly when he began tickling his side. ‘Fine, have the ice cold fry – this is a proud day for you, I’m sure,’ he whimpered weakly, smirking despite himself as he saw the pleased look Yuzuru shot him when he triumphantly took the fry and bit into it. ‘Is it possible to heal someone into a coma?’ he asked Jason, suppressing a smile as Yuzuru shoved him. ‘I’m going to heal him into a coma. I’m going to put him on an indefinite mute and everyone is going to thank me.’ Yuzuru scrunched his nose up, elbowing him in the side in half-hearted protest.

‘Why are you so evil?’ Shoma widened his eyes at him comically.

‘Why are you so much of a pest?’ he shot back quickly and Yuzuru feigned a sulk, eyes sparkling still. Jason laughed at them, shaking his head.

‘Ok, not to be weird or anything? But you two are so cute,’ he said, wincing somewhat apologetically at Shoma. ‘Sorry, guess the jacket’s not the secret to getting fear and respect around here after all,’ he added mischievously, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Maybe that’s because it’s too big on you,’ Yuzuru put in, expression jokingly earnest.

‘Too big? You have matchsticks for arms: I can barely feel my fingers in this.’

‘Then give it back,’ Yuzuru laughed and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘It’s the principle at this point, Yuzu: the jacket is mine now,’ he declared, eyes glinting in challenge, and Yuzuru smothered a smile, shaking his head fondly.

‘My matchstick arms are strong – I could fight you for it.’

‘You might rip your jacket in the process; I’m willing to bet you won’t take the risk.’

‘You are so weird.’

‘I’d be offended, but you’re pretty weird too, so I think that makes us even.’ Yuzuru flicked his ear and Shoma looked back at him with glittering eyes, flicking his forehead in return. ‘Leave me alone, Annoying,’ he told him with a laugh. Yuzuru beamed at him with such force it made Shoma want to rest his head on his shoulder like he would in the garden, like it was only the two of them and Shoma knew exactly who he was supposed to be. Instead he settled on leaning his weight against him just a little, basking in the knowing look Yuzuru gave him in return.

‘Adorable,’ Jason nodded, looking at them with a twinkly-eyed smile. Yuzuru and Shoma shared a glance, laughing and quickly looking away again.

 

Brian arrived late; the more time it took for him to appear, the more people began to look towards Javier and Yuzuru somewhat expectantly, as though one of them might spontaneously decide they had the authority to call the whole meeting off. The atmosphere became muted and, when Brian did finally come into view at the top of the main staircase down to the courtyard, everyone looked over to him in near-unison, quickly quietening as they waited for him to speak. It was a far cry from the heckles and hollers that usually marked the start of Brian’s meetings, and it was clear Brian missed the lightness; he hesitated at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, busying himself reading through the papers he was carrying rather than looking around at the faces in front of him.

‘He hates telling us things he knows we don’t want to hear; and no one wants to hear that half of us are getting dragged off to waste time listening to international politicians argue over things that don’t even matter,’ Yuzuru whispered, offering Shoma a small smile.

‘So why doesn’t he talk to people one-on-one instead?’

‘It’s too close to treating us like we really are an army; making us just follow commands without having all the facts. He doesn’t want to stop the freedom of discussion we have here,’ Yuzuru shrugged and Shoma nodded.

‘You need to feel free to think your ideas matter or you’ll never share them,’ he said.

‘Exactly; and that would be dangerous. Every idea has potential here – that is the secret of this place that the governments and accountants and angry people on the internet have never managed to get their heads around. They remember we are the Foundation For The Preservation Of Colours – they forget that we are the Foundation For The Preservation Of Creativity too.’

 

Brian’s usually beaming face was pinched and pale as he fidgeted with the papers in his hand, rolling them up and puffing out a quick, sharp breath as he came to stand in his usual spot. He offered a tight smile, raising his eyebrows at them all slightly.

‘Well, on the bright side, I have finally managed to get you all to actually pay attention to one of our meetings; and on a Sunday no less,’ he sighed. ‘It’s a bittersweet victory, but I suppose I’ll take it,’ he added wryly.

‘You scare us more when you’re nice to us, you know that?’ Adam called out, his voice lacking some of its usual sharpness, and Brian let out a rough laugh, nodding thoughtfully.

‘I’ll bear that in mind for the future,’ he said. ‘So, I’m guessing from the general mood of apathy and the sea of glum faces that all of you have been keeping an eye on the news coming out of Singapore lately.’

‘The news coming out of anywhere lately has hardly been a bucket of puppies,’ Alex said under his breath, his smile wry, and Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘Harsh: there’s a town in Germany where they’ve made a giant kitty out of chocolate, that’s kinda fun,’ he said, and Shoma half-laughed and half-groaned, shaking his head at him.

‘You really need to stop getting all your news stories from Boyang,’ he remarked, to the amusement of the group around them, who all tried and failed to stifle their laughter. Brian glanced their way but made no comment, carrying on with his news.

‘So, given the way you’re all reacting, I’m guessing I won’t be getting much enthusiasm for the announcement that a final list of those who have been selected to accompany Tracy and myself on the upcoming official visit is currently being drawn up and will be submitted for further discussion with the relevant ministries over the course of this coming week.’ Brian’s face broke into a brief, exaggerated grimace. ‘There is a chance some of you will already have a fair idea of which names will be on the top of that list: to those of you who think these opportunities should be shared out, I apologise, and I agree with you, but Tracy and I can only sway the opinion of the organisers and the board so much, and getting these lists past countries’ individual agendas is a difficult process to say the least. If it helps you at all, I can promise you you’re not missing out on anything particularly appetizing and any one of those people who have endured one of these visits before will tell you the same. And for what it’s worth? This particular visit is going to be even less appetizing than most.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to collect his thoughts – the hush over the group was so unnatural it made Shoma wince. ‘It can’t have escaped your attention that, lately, public opinion has been growing increasingly divided as to how successful the Foundation project has been and what the way forward may look like for us and other agencies interested in preventing the Grey Zones. There have been protests regarding governments’ associations with us, there have been organisations set up specifically to campaign against us receiving more funding, and there have even been a growing number of incidents of people living close to Grey Zones and in countries badly affected by the problem deciding to make their fears for the future known at any cost. Both Malaysia and Singapore have not been immune to this change in public sentiment, and this has caused significant tensions between them, given that Singapore is a government very much allied to our way of thinking here, whilst Malaysia has been pushing, lately, for trying new ideas and approaches. The emergency summit which we have been asked to send a delegation to is of extreme importance, because Singapore’s gesture in allowing Malaysia to host the event is very much their way of presenting to the world their commitment to listening to the opinions of all of those at the table in Grey Zone discussions, and, indeed, their commitment to working together, even with those whose opinions they may disagree with.’

‘Really, because to me it seems like Singapore dumped the summit on Malaysia because they’re not interested in bringing trouble to their doorstep,’ Javier whispered to Yuzuru, who shot him a glare.

‘Don’t be so cynical,’ he sighed, but there was an unease in his eyes.

‘On top of our concerns surrounding the fragile relations between countries, we also have concerns regarding the protest movements and their plans to make sure their voices are heard during the course of the summit. They won’t be invited inside to do this, given their currently unofficial status, which means there is a very high probability of protests and marches taking place around the events we will be attending. This will also lead to an increased media presence and increased media scrutiny: no matter what we do, or how much of a success the visit may ultimately prove to be, you all are going to find yourselves reading things in the press that may alarm you. And in some cases you may even find things written about yourselves, your home here and your friends which you know to be untrue. I want to tell you all: your mentors’ doors are open and you are all entitled, at any time, to request permission to return home for visits if you feel you would rather be away from the eye of this storm until it passes. But what I also want to tell you all is this: you know the truth of what we do here, and nothing anyone writes or broadcasts can take away the knowledge that you are doing something good with your powers. I have no doubts about any one of you; you have my faith, my trust and my respect. And above all? You have my belief. Nothing has changed. Whoever does or does not come on this trip, whatever developments come of this summit: I know, in my heart of hearts, that the ultimate solution lies in you, in your ideas and powers, but, more importantly, in your character and the connections you have made here. We are a team: our success will come, one day, because of the fact we have held on to that no matter what.’

 

Somehow Brian’s stark warning seemed to pierce the tension that had been lingering over them all; Shoma felt the ripple of it through the courtyard as though every one of them had let out a breath at once. Brian’s smile became a little less twitchy as he looked around, some of the colour coming back to his cheeks. ‘Now, I’m not entirely the bearer of bad news,’ he announced. Shoma couldn’t help but smile at the small chorus of cheers that went up, punctuated mostly by a loud, melodramatic “Thank God!” from Adam. ‘Yes, thank you: it’s good to know how much you all love and adore your time with me!’ Brian called over the top of the noise, throwing his hands up in a show of despair that was entirely undercut by the wide smile on his face. ‘Since both mine and Tracy’s presence has been requested by the Singapore government, you will be two mentors – and two senior programme managers – down…so, in order to help fill the gaps for those of you remaining here at the Foundation, Jeff has kindly agreed to postpone his return to his charity group so that he can take over the running of sessions for the Healers, who will all be under his primary supervision for the duration of the time Tracy and I are gone. For you Artists I am entrusting David with the task of being your primary supervisor, whilst the overall running of the programme will be handled by committee amongst all the mentors. My final note on temporary staff changes is, in fact, unrelated to the visit: Rafael will be on his annual leave starting tomorrow. Ghislain will continue with to be the primary supervisior of the Warriors, but he will also be stepping in to Rafael’s place in lectures, sessions and mentor appointments until Rafael gets back – please do not make me regret this decision by taking advantage of his supremely kind nature and intensely busy schedule and instead behave yourselves as you would if Rafael were still here. Just because Ghislain is less likely to fix you with a look that could kill does not mean he should be underestimated, and what you should also bear in mind is that he is 100% more likely to simply quietly report you to me instead, should you misbehave, so that instead of getting yelled at, you will actually end up with the tried and tested Disappointed Parent Lecture from myself and Tracy that nobody wants to experience, least of all me.’

‘That is very true,’ Javier said and Yuzuru nodded.

‘It’s the worst. It only happened to me one time; it wasn’t even my fault, but I have never felt more guilty in my whole life,’ he grimaced.

‘Wasn’t even your fault? It was your idea, Yuzu!’ Javier protested, rolling his eyes at Yuzuru, and Shoma looked over at them, raising an eyebrow.

‘ _Don’t ask_ ,’ Yuzuru and Javier told him in unison, and Shoma fought to bite back a laugh. Yuzuru shoved him, his own eyes dancing with amusement as he shook his head, turning his gaze skywards so as not to set himself off laughing again by catching Javier’s eye.

 

‘If anyone needs me I will be in my office until about ten o’clock tonight – make the most of your opportunity to come and talk to me, because my schedule will be packed from here on out until after my return from the summit. And on that note, I will let you all go. Anyone whose name is not Hanyu or Fernandez, you are officially dismissed-’

‘What did we do?’ Javier protested, and Brian shot him an amused smile.

‘That I know of? Recently? Nothing, though I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. But I would like to discuss a few things with the pair of you regarding some new research papers I’ve recently received which you might both might find interesting. And don’t forget: you both have appointments with Tracy later and with me tomorrow. Javi, that was mostly aimed at you, since Yuzuru has an uncanny ability to remember meetings with me I swear I never even put on the calendar.’ He gave Javier and Yuzuru each a knowing look before glancing back around at the group at large. ‘Ok, well, now that I have potentially ruined a few people’s days and made a few others’, I’m going to leave you to make the most of what’s left of your Sunday. Please, keep checking your Foundation emails for any news regarding the upcoming trip and try and make it to bed at a reasonable enough hour tonight that your mentors don’t feel like they’re trying to teach a bunch of bears with sore heads tomorrow – I don’t think any of us want to have a repeat of last week’s Monday sessions fiasco, do we? And the answer is definitely no, for anyone who feels even a little unsure.’

 

As people began to shift and drift back into conversation, Javier and Yuzuru headed over to where Brian was waiting for them, and Shoma pulled out his phone in the hope it would persuade people to leave him alone amongst the din until Yuzuru returned to help shield him. People didn’t bother him when Yuzuru was around; he was a constant distraction of noise and chatter and a helpful buffer to the cacophony of other people’s energy invading Shoma’s headspace, quietly protective in a way that seemed to be part-instinct and part-bullish determination.

 

To his relief he had new messages, all from his brother and all whining about having school the next day, and Shoma smirked, pointing out how he probably shouldn’t still be awake and receiving a string of quick complaints for his troubles. When Shoma didn’t rise to the bait, Itsuki added “Are you good enough friends with Superpower Boy that he could turn the school into a bird and make it fly away?” and Shoma rolled his eyes. He sent back a “I have powers too you know” followed by “And stop calling him that” before someone sat down beside him – he didn’t need to look up to know it was Yuzuru and he smiled slightly, leaning into him and pulling a face, letting him see the messages.

‘Itsuki is a pain,’ he stated flatly, and Yuzuru nodded like Shoma had told him some gravely significant piece of news, his eyes aglitter as he peeked over Shoma’s shoulder, watching as more complaints from Itsuki flooded in regarding things he swore Shoma had stolen from him when he packed for the Foundation and some old grievance over a broken game being raised from the dead to make a point.

‘Did you really wickedly throw it in a washing machine, Shoma? Or is this rumour malicious and false and not to be trusted?’ Yuzuru enquired, amused. Shoma fought back a smile, twisting his face up in consideration.

‘No comment?’ he offered, laughing when Yuzuru playfully poked at his cheek.

‘Shoma!’

‘I was eleven, it wasn’t my finest moment, ok?’ Shoma pouted, eyes sparkling, and Yuzuru nodded with joking scepticism.

 

‘What time is it back home anyway?’ Yuzuru sighed, leaning in again to read the screen, his chin digging into Shoma’s shoulder as he mischievously pushed his weight against him. ‘Shouldn’t he be sleeping; he’s back at school now, right?’ Shoma shrugged.

‘We’ve shared a room for most of our lives: we pretty much haven’t been going to bed at the time we’re supposed to since Itsuki learned to talk.’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘Can’t break the habit, huh?’ he smiled and Shoma feigned a grimace.

‘Apparently not,’ he sighed. ‘He’s still calling you names by the way.’

‘Who’s calling Yuzu names?’ Jason enquired idly as he turned back towards the two of them.

‘Most people in the media,’ Yuzuru offered, eyes glinting roguishly.

‘Brian and Javi, probably,’ Evgenia offered brightly, suddenly appearing behind Jason and resting her chin on his shoulder with a pixie-smile and a bat of her eyelashes.

‘Definitely Shoma,’ Yuzuru supplied, ignoring Shoma’s glare.

‘And don’t forget Patrick!’ Evgenia added.

‘All valid, but I was talking about my brother, actually,’ Shoma said, digging an elbow into Yuzuru’s ribs and shooting him a fondly despairing smile.

‘Wait, Yuzu: you know the famous brother?! Shoma, why haven’t you introduced any of _us_ to your little brother?’ Jason asked with an exaggerated pout and Shoma rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself at Jason’s infectious enthusiasm.

‘He’s not that little,’ he said archly, pocketing his phone again. ‘And Yuzu got first call because I needed someone I could use to threaten him with,’ he added with a sly smirk in Yuzuru’s direction, playfully shoving him off him.  ‘Can I tell him you’re powerful enough to make all his belongings disappear from across an ocean or something? He has absolutely zero interest in what powers actually are; he doesn’t even get my powers, it makes other people’s a foreign language to him. He’s so indifferent to the whole thing I think he might actually believe anything I told him at this point.’ Yuzuru laughed, shrugging idly.

‘My Wikipedia page says I can do all kinds of things I have no clue about – I don’t think any more misinformation can hurt,’ he joked and Shoma raised his eyebrows.

‘You check your own Wikipedia page?’ he laughed. Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘No. But Brian does. He has to ask me sometimes what’s true and what’s not. And for the record? The part about me once turning a river into gold? Not true. I don’t even know where that story came from, but it’s made it into so many news reports that people just believe it now no matter what I say,’ Yuzuru said, crossing his eyes for effect and making Shoma smile. Jason and Evgenia laughed, exchanging a glance.

‘You think Brian’s the one behind it? Is this his secret hobby he won’t tell any of us about?’ Evgenia suggested and Yuzuru took a moment to consider it, a small, amused smile on his lips.

‘I have no idea what he does for fun, so it could be. Although I think Tracy would have stopped him by now – she hates the stories about me so much, she says they’re bad for my ego,’ he smirked.

‘This is true, your head’s already way too big,’ Shoma teased, grinning when Yuzuru smacked at him and gave a small shake of his head.

‘I bet it’s Javi,’ Evgenia declared.

‘I’ll bet it’s Raf,’ Jason joked and Yuzuru spluttered out a laugh, widening his eyes.

‘Oh, that would make so much sense! He’s always been so annoyed with Brian for having Ghislain be my Warrior supervisor and not him.’

‘He has Nathan now,’ Evgenia pointed out. ‘If the US press is right, he’s way better than you, Yuzu – he once rescued a puppy with his powers.’

‘Oh, but that’s actually true, though!’ Jason nodded enthusiastically. ‘I was there – it was at the annual US Power Conference last year and I saw it with my own eyes. About a hundred people fell in love right there.’

‘I should just retire then, huh?’ Yuzuru laughed and Shoma pretended to consider it.

‘That or try to one-up him. The ethics of putting puppies’ lives in danger so you can stage your own scene in front of the press would be questionable though.’

‘What do you care about questionable ethics: you wanted to try and freeze half the world so you could avoid missing a university deadline, Shoma,’ Yuzuru teased and Shoma pinched him.

‘Hey – I was desperate! You’re just on an ego trip,’ he said, laughing despite himself as Yuzuru simply smiled at him fondly.

 

‘Hey, Shoma: catch!’ Shoma looked up just in time to see a basketball come hurtling towards him, and he reached out on instinct, stopping it from smashing into his face by a fraction of a second then lowering it to see who had launched the attack. ‘Nice reflexes,’ Alex declared with a laugh, offering a high-five to Shoma which he reluctantly accepted before handing the basketball back over.

‘Thanks,’ he said dryly. ‘It’s amazing what you can achieve when you don’t want a concussion, I guess.’ Alex grinned at him.

‘See, that’s the spirit!’ he beamed, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You want to come join us for a game over on the playing field? Everyone feels like we need to lighten the mood and spend some time together before the big Singapore thing.’

‘I mean…I still kind of have coursework to finish…’ Shoma said slowly, wincing when Jason threw an enthusiastic arm around his shoulders.

‘Come on, Shoma – have some fun! You have until midnight, right?’ Shoma nodded somewhat reluctantly and Jason smiled. ‘Perfect. That’s settled then.’

‘Great! I’m having you on my team; everyone underestimates you and I want to make it part of my master plan,’ Alex said brightly and Shoma pulled a face.

‘But I’m tired just knowing you even have a master plan,’ he whined, groaning when Jason playfully shook at his shoulders, his head flopping backwards as he let himself be jostled at.

‘What about you, Yuzu?’ Alex asked, and Yuzuru offered him an apologetic smile.

‘Can’t. I have work too – and Brian still wants to talk to me about something once he’s done with Javi,’ he sighed.

‘But it’s Sunday,’ Evgenia pouted and Yuzuru shrugged.

‘So? There’s petitions going around now saying I don’t deserve to even get to stay here on weekends – that the Foundation should find jobs for me somewhere,’ he pointed out, pulling a face. ‘I’ll take talking to Brian over that, at least.’ He glanced at Shoma then, his smile softening. ‘I’ll see you later though, right?’ he asked gently and Shoma couldn’t help but smile back at him, quiet and timid.

‘Sure,’ he said, his voice hushed but certain, and Yuzuru’s smile brightened, his whole face lit up from within.

‘I’m glad,’ he said sincerely and Shoma smiled back at him with a small nod of agreement.

 

As Yuzuru headed off to speak to Brian, Shoma let himself drift along amidst the ongoing debate which was raging amongst the rest of the group as to who would be on whose team for the basketball game; he didn’t pay much attention to the back-and-forth, choosing instead to look up towards where Brian and Yuzuru were standing, leaning against the railings of one of the walkways, deep in an intense conversation. Yuzuru’s expression was surprisingly sullen, and he bobbed his head in a curiously dismissive manner as Brian talked, his eyes narrowing and his fingers twitchily tucking his hair into place like he was trying to keep down a restless sort of irritation at whatever Brian was telling him. Brian was straining to keep his voice measured – Shoma could tell from the slow, winding way he was talking and the placating gestures he made with his hands as Yuzuru’s frustration seemed to build. It was unusual to see the two of them quite so at odds; they disagreed at times, and Shoma knew from Yuzuru they had clashed in the past, but the two had found an understanding over their many years together and Brian wasn’t a man of ill temper by nature. But the usual fond warmth that Brian had for Yuzuru seemed to be being tested by a sort of exasperated confusion. Almost instinctively, Shoma closed his eyes and focused himself in, trying to push back the sensation of the powers close around him and instead seek out the familiar feeling of the storm which lingered at the edges of his consciousness day and night. But Yuzuru’s drums were strangely dull and distant in that moment, as though he hadn’t even noticed Shoma reaching out.

 

Shoma couldn’t wait for midnight to roll around; as much fun as it was messing around with the others outside, and as busy as putting the finishing touches to his coursework had kept him, he hadn’t been able to shake the nagging unease from the pit of his stomach at the way Yuzuru’s energy had become so subdued so suddenly. He knew that the Singapore trip had been troubling him, but he hadn’t realised just how at odds it seemed to be placing him from Brian and Javier. Shoma knew they were his support system in a world that so often seemed to place too much weight on Yuzuru’s shoulders, and it made him ache for him – all he wanted to do was lift that heaviness from Yuzuru’s being and watch the beauty that was Yuzuru set free, the Yuzuru he saw when they were together in the garden, who didn’t feel the need to look around to make sure there were no cameras documenting his every move or important-looking people in suits holding clipboards full of demands on his time. The Yuzuru who snorted out undignified laughter at terrible jokes and whispered stories about childhood misadventures into a lavender dusk.

 

The garden’s sky looked like a painting that night, the light trapped behind a rolling bank of grey clouds that heaped up over each other like ocean waves, edged in faint gold sunlight as they broke against the blue sky just visible beyond; Shoma realised there was even a faint mist of rain in the air, a cold mizzle that danced up briefly on the breeze and dusted his cheeks with raindrops.

 

Yuzuru was sitting on the bridge, looking almost like a lost child with his legs dangling over the side, kicking back and forth slightly as he rested his arms against the middle beam. He was staring down into the dark waters of the pond, watching a shoal of brightly coloured fish chase each other around in circles. His chin was on his crossed arms, his hair falling in damp, messy sweeps across his forehead – he didn’t move or look up as Shoma approached, but Shoma could tell he knew he was there, the breeze ruffling at his hair like a greeting.

 

Shoma came over to join him on the bridge without hesitation, sitting down silently beside him and mirroring his pose, pillowing his head on his arms so he could look over at him thoughtfully, studying his now-familiar features – curves which changed into sharp edges with a simple shift of the light, solemn, delicate lips and neat, dark lashes half-hidden by his hair. Tonight his thunder was all in his eyes – his forehead wasn’t knitted into a frown and his lips weren’t downturned, but there was something troubled in his eyes as they followed the patterns of the ripples across the surface of the pond.

 

Shoma reached into his pocket and pulled out a KitKat, breaking it in two and wordlessly holding out half to Yuzuru, who looked over at him with a quiet, bemused smile. Shoma smiled back, nudging him with his elbow and rolling his eyes.

‘Enjoy this offer, Hanyu, because it doesn’t happen often, and I can’t promise it’ll ever come around again,’ he said softly, and Yuzuru let out a small bubble of laughter, taking the offered chocolate. Shoma gave a tiny nod of approval, knocking his own piece to Yuzuru’s in a toast; it made him feel absurdly happy to see the light filter back into Yuzuru’s smiling face.

‘What are we toasting to?’ Yuzuru asked. His voice was small and rough like he’d spent too long arguing and had no energy left, but there was life back in his eyes and his smile didn’t falter as Shoma simply shrugged, biting into his chocolate.

‘The fact I just emailed my coursework to my professor with ten minutes to spare,’ he said with his mouth full, and Yuzuru’s smile widened.

‘I knew you would do it.’ Shoma glowed at the undercurrent of fierce belief in Yuzuru’s voice and he shook his head shyly, looking away.

‘Liar,’ he mumbled, blushing and biting back a grin. Yuzuru smirked slightly, rolling his eyes.

 

For a little while the two of them sat in silence again, both gazing down into the pond, swinging their legs absently. Although there was still a slightly haunted look lingering in his stare, Yuzuru seemed less forlorn than he had when Shoma had first arrived, like Shoma’s company alone had healed something inside him; Shoma was glad that he could return the comfort Yuzuru always gave him when his head was too full, glad that he wasn’t the only one who felt that sense of safety and ease when the two of them were alone. Yuzuru licked some melted chocolate from his fingers and sighed, leaning forward again and resting his head on his arms so he could look up at Shoma tiredly, a half-smile on his lips.

‘Who won the match this afternoon?’ he asked softly. Shoma brushed some crumbs from his loaned jacket, pretending not to see the way Yuzuru winced at the mess he was making of it.

‘The girls’ team,’ he shrugged, leaning back on his hands. ‘It was pretty brutal, honestly. I’m not sure Alex is ever going to be the same again.’ Yuzuru smiled, amused.

‘Let me guess: Zhenya was their captain, right?’ he said and Shoma nodded.

‘She demolished everyone; she’s deadly when she puts her mind to something.’

‘Zhenya is sweet, but she’s also crazy-determined. You don’t mess with her when she’s set her sights on something.’

‘Huh, cute but deadly: no wonder you two get on so well,’ Shoma smirked and Yuzuru pulled a face at him, laughing despite himself.

 

Shoma stretched, arching his back before shuffling a little closer to Yuzuru and leaning forwards again, resting his head on his arms so their eyes were level. ‘I saw you arguing with Brian earlier,’ he said softly, his eyes wide and sparkling with quiet concern as he gazed at Yuzuru’s face. ‘I know it must be hard…to feel at odds with him at a time when you probably just want his comfort,’ he added more quietly. ‘I’m here, if you want to talk about it.’ Yuzuru smiled, small and soft.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured faintly. ‘But is it ok if we just sit instead?’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘I feel like I’ve spent all afternoon talking in circles and right now I just…it’s just enough that you’re here, you know?’ Shoma smiled back at him gently, nodding.

‘Sure,’ he whispered back, knocking their elbows together, placid and fond.

 

The sky had shifted into a cornflower dusk and the mizzle had cleared. Yuzuru kicked at Shoma’s foot gently and Shoma kicked back, shooting him a playful glare before settling once more into the quiet with a happy sigh. They both returned to gazing out over the pond in silence, though every now and again one would reach across to tap the other’s foot, the softest reminder that they were still there when the other was ready to break the peace.

 

‘I managed to do some more work on the power combining studies,’ Yuzuru remarked idly after a while, frowning slightly as an overenthusiastic fish leapt up out of the water with an inelegant splash. Shoma made a soft, curious sound, encouraging him to go on, and Yuzuru bit down a smile. ‘I finally found some stuff based around how powers are affected by each other – I think we could maybe apply it to our powers, you know?’

‘Wait, you actually found a study on power combinations that didn’t have anything to do with you?’ Shoma asked, amused, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up, closing one eye in a comical wince and bobbing his head ambivalently.

‘It…might have been done before I was even born…’ he admitted reluctantly and Shoma laughed, nodding.

‘Of course. So before there were even Grey Zones, then.’

‘Back when people tested these things because they were interested in them and not because they felt desperate,’ Yuzuru agreed. ‘I think it made the research better, honestly. They had some interesting ideas about how Warriors could maybe use their influence over energy to alter the power of others around them, but they couldn’t find many Warriors strong enough to really meet the challenge of testing it consistently.’ Shoma raised an eyebrow.

‘Don’t you and me…kind of have even more of an influence over energy than a straight-up Warrior would, though?’ he asked. Yuzuru smiled the wild, dangerous smile and Shoma almost laughed at the sight of it.

‘Not only that, Shoma: we have more of an influence of over _each other’s_ energy. Think about it – when can you not sense me?’ Shoma bit his lip, trying to think of a moment since he first saw him when Yuzuru’s energy had been entirely absent from his consciousness.

‘So…do you sense me all the time too?’ he ventured, and Yuzuru smiled at him, wide and a little amused as he rolled his eyes in a show of exasperation.

‘Shoma – I told you! I sensed you before you even came through the gates.’ Shoma rolled his eyes right back, kicking Yuzuru’s ankle.

‘That didn’t necessarily mean it was a permanent thing,’ he protested. ‘Please tell me I don’t make as much of a din in your head as you do in mine,’ he added teasingly and Yuzuru kicked him back.

‘Shut up,’ he muttered, smothering a smile and shaking his head. ‘And no,’ he conceded more quietly. ‘You’re calming. Like evenings in spring when you know summer’s coming, but the air is still cool and fresh and soothing.’ Shoma’s expression gentled and he rested his head back down with a sigh.

‘That sounds…nice,’ he murmured. Yuzuru smiled.

‘It is,’ he told him earnestly.

 

They fell quiet again for a moment, and Shoma gave Yuzuru another nudge to remind him he was still listening.

‘The power study…?’ he prompted after a beat, and Yuzuru tried not to smile.

‘I mean…we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.’

‘Like that wouldn’t kill you,’ Shoma laughed softly. ‘You think these people had a point? About the energy thing?’ Yuzuru nodded.

‘Yes. But it’s tricky on paper.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Oh no – are we doing practical learning again?’ he grumbled playfully, taking the expected shove from Yuzuru in return without complaint. ‘Fine. What do you want to do?’

 

Yuzuru was so delighted that Shoma couldn’t help but smile; he had an enthusiasm for training unlike anyone else at the Foundation, but sessions could never be enough for someone of Yuzuru’s abilities, and he had a fascination for Shoma’s power that was strangely sweet, given the scope of his own skills. It reinforced Shoma’s belief that Yuzuru truly did see him as an equal: the way he lit up whenever Shoma used his power around him, the way he watched every action Shoma took with that power with an incredulous kind of captivation that Shoma had never really believed his power was worthy of before.

‘Have you ever summoned pure energy?’ Yuzuru asked.

‘I have no idea; maybe? My power mostly just…reacts. I don’t really know half of what I’ve done, I just know what’s happened, you know?’ Shoma sighed, and Yuzuru offered him a kind smile, nodding thoughtfully.

‘Ok…so, have you ever held so much energy in the palm of your hand it became a light?’ he suggested. Shoma considered it, tilting his head as he searched his memories for something similar. ‘It would be like a knot of just total power, you know? So concentrated it glowed.’

‘Not intentionally, but…I think it’s happened,’ Shoma said slowly.

‘And do you think maybe you could manage to do it again? So I can try something?’

 

Shoma looked back at Yuzuru seriously for a moment, trying and failing to figure out what he was up to. Slowly, cautiously, he gave him a nod, and Yuzuru beamed at him, nodding back and holding out a hand in front of him, cupped and graceful. ‘Hold out your hand like this and close your eyes,’ he instructed gently. Shoma bit his lip but did as he was told, taking a deep, steadying breath as he tried to call up his power from inside himself. He felt Yuzuru shifting even closer, felt his gentle fingers touching the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck. ‘Remember: like making a wish,’ he said in a whisper by Shoma’s ear.

 

For a second there was nothing, and then Shoma felt a spark somewhere inside his ribcage; his palm grew warmer, and when he opened his eyes he was amazed to see a shimmering gold sphere was hovering just above his fingertips, bristling with power and wavering a little at its edges like heat off dry grass in the height of summer. Yuzuru leant in close against Shoma’s back; Shoma felt his smile more than he saw it. ‘Can you hold it?’ he asked softly. Shoma managed a small, uncertain nod and Yuzuru nodded too, leaning forward, his chin on Shoma’s shoulder and his heartbeat thumping at his back. ‘Ok, ready?’ Shoma wasn’t sure what he was being asked, but Yuzuru didn’t wait for a reply, instead simply reaching out his own hand and placing it lightly beneath Shoma’s. His touch was incredibly gentle, but the jolt of power which came with it was a shock, and Shoma’s breath caught in his throat.

 

When the initial sharpness of the shock subsided, Shoma closed his eyes for a second and swallowed hard, concentrating on his own power again and finding it suddenly altered, focused in a way it never usually was and possessed of edges which were pure lightning. Where it normally felt as though something were simply pouring out of him, now it felt like it had become channelled and centred, some other force ordering it and shaping it, cooling its usual fervour. As Shoma watched, the orb of light grew brighter, tiny, colourful zigzags of lightning running across its surface. And then it began to change, its light gentling and swirling; before Shoma’s eyes it shaped itself into something else, gradually transforming into a pretty, glowing sun. ‘Power, but with direction,’ Yuzuru said softly, flicking Shoma a knowing glance. Shoma smiled somewhat dazedly back at him. ‘Two energies, but with one working through the other, you see?’ Shoma nodded, looking at Yuzuru’s face with unguarded fascination before slowly turning his eyes back to the magical sun in his palm. ‘Now when I say, blow it out, ok?’

‘Another wish?’ Shoma guessed with a small laugh, and Yuzuru beamed, nodding.

‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘You ready?’ Shoma nodded. ‘Then I’ll count you in: three, two, _one_.’

 

Just as he had been told, Shoma blew at the tiny sun, breathing out like he was blowing out a candle and watching as it burst out in a hundred tiny fireworks that shot off in every direction. At the same moment, Shoma felt the jolt of Yuzuru’s magic run through him again, right at the point where his palm touched the back of Shoma’s hand. And just like that the breeze picked up around them, carrying the sparks up into the air. Yuzuru nudged Shoma happily. ‘Light, but with wings,’ he declared, tipping his head towards the little gold shooting stars as they climbed to a certain height over the pond before suddenly twisting, bursting and transforming into a shower of petals which drifted down to the ground like rain.

 

Shoma blinked, staring at the petals as they spun and swirled down towards the surface of the pond, before he slowly turned to look back across at Yuzuru. Yuzuru was gazing at Shoma with the same delight and wonder most people would have reserved for the magic show the two of them had just performed, and it made Shoma’s face feel hot and his chest feel tight.

‘Was that your power or mine?’ he asked, and Yuzuru shrugged.

‘Mine, in a way,’ he said, tilting his head slightly. ‘But mine filtered through yours. Like when you shine a light through coloured film.’ Shoma nodded, looking back out over the pond in mildly stunned silence.

‘Oh,’ he managed quietly, biting his lip before glancing up at Yuzuru once more. ‘Do you have any idea what any of this means?’ he said then and Yuzuru laughed, offering Shoma a lopsided smile as he reached out and plucked a rogue petal from his hair.

‘None. But…I think it must at least mean we were supposed to be put together, right?’ he suggested, his expression sweet and hopeful, and Shoma smiled back at him for that, swallowing hard and looking down with a sigh.

‘It’s…probably a strong argument, yeah,’ he said. ‘But…I hope it’s not the only thing.’ He looked at Yuzuru from the corner of his eye. ‘I want to think we still had a choice in this, you know? I’d like to think…maybe it wouldn’t work so well if we didn’t want it to.’ Yuzuru’s eyes glimmered with something Shoma didn’t quite understand as he regarded him quietly for a moment before nodding.

‘I like that idea,’ he murmured, soft and genuine as he shifted back to rest his head on Shoma’s shoulder. ‘I’d like to think that somewhere in all that has happened and everything I’ve done, I had something which I really did choose entirely because I wanted to. And most of all? I would like to think that what I chose was you.’

 

Monday morning broke milky-grey and damp over the Foundation; mist shrouded the tops of all the buildings and everything felt cool and calm and strangely still. Shoma had woken up in his room just a little before his alarm, shivering against the early-morning cold as it touched at the edges of his face and silently thanking Yuzuru for having had the presence of mind to heap the covers up on top of him before he’d left at who-knew-what-o’clock.

 

The Foundation was still curiously quiet, even by the time Shoma had managed to drag himself out from under his covers and attempted to impose some order on his rumpled hair; the loudest sound was his own footsteps through the puddles, and even the birds seemed oddly subdued, as though the day hadn’t really begun yet. The smattering of raindrops across every surface had driven everyone inside, and Shoma hardly saw anyone between his room and the courtyard. He quite enjoyed the solitude – and was looking forward to being able to pick out something ridiculously unhealthy for breakfast without any judging comments in his ears – when he was startled by the sound of voices coming from one of the walkways above him.

 

‘…I know, I know. I do. But it’s a long time since I’ve seen him like this. He’s adamant. And I don’t know what to make of it.’

‘Has the Japanese ministry said anything which makes you want to lean one way or the other?’

‘No. They’ve never really given me much information on Shoma, honestly; he’s mostly a mystery beyond the obvious. They want him there to promote some new faces more than anything, I think – to show their continued push to fix things and maybe prove they don’t only favour Yuzu. That being said…the kid does have something, you know. I followed up on the family he healed when he was a kid: did you know his power was so strong that even when they got them to the hospital, they were _still_ healing? It took the youngest kid a week before their injuries stopped glowing. Besides Yuzu, I don’t think anyone here has had the kind of power that waited around after they’d gone like that, let alone for that amount of time.’

‘Oh he’s got something, alright. He’s quiet about it, but it’s definitely there. I’ve seen it – Yuzu knows I have, even if he tries to act like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring it up. He’s protective of him; if he knows something, it’s something he’s not even willing to give up to me. Which tells me…it could be something big, you know?’

‘But is it enough, though? Something untested and unknown like that? This is a truly enormous task we have ahead of us with this summit, and as much as I don’t want it all falling on Yuzu’s shoulders, I’m not convinced this is the way of dealing with the pressure he feels. I want to tell him we can ease that pressure, but he’s a smart kid, he knows that, ultimately, it _will_ fall largely on his shoulders no matter who else makes the cut.’

‘Maybe that’s a point in Shoma’s favour, though. They’re close – I think he’s the first person other than Javi who I’ve seen him whispering with during lectures, and most of the times with Javi he was only telling him to be quiet. It might help him, you know? To have someone around who he can actually confide in. Someone who is more his equal instead of his big brother.’

‘It might – and I had considered that. But it might hurt him. It could also hurt him to know he had the chance to have that person and it was taken away from him – I don’t want his mind somewhere else, we can’t afford that right now. What I’m most worried about is that he won’t tell me _why_ he’s so adamant on this point of how I deal with the situation…’

 

Shoma was frozen to the spot, holding his breath and staring up at the walkway above his head with wide, concerned eyes. He leant forwards just enough so that he could see where Brian and Tracy’s arms were leaning over the railing before quickly lurching back, heart beating fast as he pressed himself against the wall and sent out a silent prayer than no one would come out into the courtyard and call out to him. He swallowed down a lump in his throat, still looking up at the walkway and biting at his lip as he considered his options. On the one hand, he clearly shouldn’t be listening to this; it wasn’t just a private conversation, but it was a private conversation about a private conversation, about someone whose boundaries he respected. But on the other hand, he’d thought he and Yuzuru were honest with each other, and didn’t he have a right to know if he had somehow played a part in why Yuzuru was at odds with Brian? Yuzuru had been talking about him behind his back, making decisions about him without even having the decency to mention it in passing when Shoma had asked him what was wrong. A part of him wanted to run away in the hope he could un-feel the sting of that, but another part of him was stubbornly rooted to the spot, too wounded and too curious to do anything but stare up to where the voices were coming from and try and pick up the pieces of the conversation he was missing.

 

‘…but was he angry or was he just sad? Was he showing any indication that there was something going on besides just…being an annoyed kid who keeps being told it’s his job to save the world?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know. That’s the hardest part for me to figure out. I told him no and he told me he respects that it’s my decision and that a lot of factors go into it, but I’m wrong about Shoma and the trip and he wants me to look again at what I can do and how I go about it. He wants me to reconsider how I treat Shoma’s situation before I go ahead and finalise the list. It’s a spanner in the works I could live without, but…he’s old enough now to deserve to be listened to, at the very least. I think I have to take it into account; he knows the kid better than I do, after all. And when it comes to this particular case…I suppose I do have some leeway because there’s so many good points on both sides of the argument. I just wish I could shake the feeling that…maybe he’s just picking a fight because he doesn’t want to be part of it. I mean, what if this has nothing to do with Shoma or the way I do things or any of this secondary noise. He’s tired, he’s reaching his limit with being constantly told by people “It’s your job, you have to help”, only for those same people to turn around and make him sit through these useless summits that never seem to help anyone…I could understand why he might want to make trouble, even if it was just him acting out on some subconscious level. And, honestly? If I had the option, I’d be telling him he was off the list at this point, argument or not…I’m worried we’re about to find out that he has a breaking point, and I wish there was a way I could think of to not put him through it.’

‘I suppose that frustration could be a part of it. He told me as much yesterday in our talk; that he’s just tired of the noise and these things don’t help. But I don’t think he’d bring Shoma’s name into it if he didn’t genuinely feel strongly about the issue. He thinks the world of that kid, let me tell you – his whole face lights up when you ask him about him.’

‘No, you’re probably right. I guess maybe it’s just getting to me because I don’t think I’ve seen him dig his heels in this much about an issue since…well, since you-know-what. And I definitely made the wrong call there.’

‘Brian, don’t start blaming yourself for that: Yuzu would’ve only got on the first flight over there himself if you’d have told him no. And who knows how reckless he might’ve been if he hadn’t have had the idea of letting you down running through the back of his mind.’

‘We almost lost him, Tracy: the Foundation wouldn’t have come back from that, and worse still this world wouldn’t have Yuzu in it any longer. And that would’ve been on me.’

‘That’s not what Yuzuru thinks and you know it.’

‘Sadly, Yuzuru’s opinion isn’t what would have made the news. Or appeased my conscience. And it won’t be if something goes sideways at this summit either. You know I have the Russian ministry already trying to talk me out of letting Evgenia be part of this because they think I should only take Alina? Then I have the US on my case about making Nathan’s role more prominent, and possibly adding Ashley and Adam, even though there’s already Mirai, Jason, Karen _and_ the Shibutanis on the list as it stands. I honestly thought the Japanese contingent would be the easy part, because all the Japanese government ever ask is that Yuzu is somewhere on the list and that I get him out of there safely at the end of it. But now that I’ve held off giving them my shortlist for their guys, they’re asking questions, and if I tell them that Shoma is the reason for that then they’re going to want answers from me about that which I can’t give them. Not without betraying Yuzu to an extent, anyway.’

‘And Yuzu won’t give you those answers? Not even something vague you can tell the ministry?’

‘All he says is that Shoma is “too important”, whatever that means. I feel like he thinks I’m not using Shoma properly, but he won’t tell me what the right way forward is.’

‘Using him properly? Brian, they’re people not power tools. Yuzu knows that more than anyone. Whatever it is he is trying to tell you, it probably has something to do with whatever he can sense in Shoma, not what he thinks you could do with him.’

‘And he senses more than just his power? Has he told you that?’

‘You know what Yuzu is like; he gives you answers that you think at the time match the question you asked, and then a half-hour later you realise he didn’t give you anything you didn’t know already. He says he’s powerful. And he says he’s special. I see them arguing together in lectures with dopey smiles on their faces like they’re having the time of their lives driving each other half-loopy, and I think maybe Yuzuru has finally found someone who completely sees him as an equal; whether that level playing field is all about power or if it’s just how Shoma is, I don’t know. You’d have to ask Yuzu. Or Shoma. Depending which one of them you think would be the easier nut to crack.’

‘I wouldn’t fancy taking either of them on, honestly. How Shoma has managed to keep his power so much of a mystery even to us is still beyond me – it takes a lot of strength and determination to guard that much of a secret. And we both know Yuzu’s been scrappy since he was a kid.’

‘You say that like you wouldn’t change him.’

‘Would you?’

‘No…even when you brought him to me bruised and broken and barely breathing, I didn’t want to change him. I wanted him safe and I wanted him happy. I wanted him not to worry me so much. But I didn’t want him to be anything but Yuzu. He’s a headache, but what can you do about it? All that force in him comes from the heart, and no one should ask him to lose that. He’s bull-headed and breakable and it’s what makes him brilliant. If Shoma brings that brilliance out in him more safely…then I’m all for it. And I’m also all for letting them figure it out and just seeing what happens.’

‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’

‘Don’t sound so beat-up about it; look at it this way, you get to keep the Japanese government onside whether you put your faith in Shoma or not – all they will know is that you are treating their people with a great deal of respect and they will take very kindly to that. Which means that, ultimately, there is no right or wrong answer to the question. Yuzu knows whatever it is he knows. But you know what you know too. Everyone here has enough information to make a call that they can be happy with.’

‘And when Yuzu is pouting in all the photographs because I didn’t listen to his opinion?’

‘Yuzu is too professional to let that happen and you know it. You go with him or you go against him, but he’ll understand in the end; he’ll put it behind him and get the job done the same way he has been doing since he was a kid.’

‘I don’t know. This feels different somehow. Shoma matters to him. But I can’t say for sure if it’s about personality or power.’

‘Why not both? Fundamentally, we all shape our powers into something because of the people we are – you and I have always believed in that. Yuzu is a testament to it: his power has shaped itself around the person he is so much that it can’t be defined even by a classification any longer. Given the scope of what he senses, I expect he would be the first to recognise that same shaping of power in someone else. For him, I doubt it’s ever going to be as simple as separating the power and the emotion; maybe nothing Yuzu does can ever not be about power, on some level. Maybe that’s why he’s drawn to Shoma, why he is so determined in his views about how you treat him when it comes to these important decisions: maybe he doesn’t have a reason to give you because he can’t put into words something which, to him, is a very definite thing that he can reach out and just touch, almost on instinct.’

‘It’s possible, I guess. But as much as these kids like to think they can fool me, there are some of them…I know their faces, I know their moods. Yuzu took a little longer for me to get a handle on, maybe. But I know him now, you know? And yet I’ve never seen that look on his face. Whatever it is going on with him and this sudden protectiveness he has over Shoma? It’s not something I can pin down.’

‘And if you can’t, then I’m sure he hasn’t; he’s so up and down, he probably hasn’t had the chance to stop and figure that part out for himself yet. Which is why, right now, the best thing you can tell him is that he should talk about this with Shoma himself.’

‘And that’s what I said to him. It would certainly get me around the issue. I don’t know if it’s what Yuzu’s actually going to do though.’

‘When do you need to submit your final list?’

‘By the end of the week. But the Japanese ministry are going to want some indication which of their kids I’m leaning towards before that submission goes out to the organisers, of course. And I’d rather not make them feel lied to by springing a different set of names on them at the last minute when the official announcement goes out.’

‘You know…Yuzu’s point of view? It’s not the craziest suggestion. It wouldn’t be how we’ve handled it in the past, but we’ve never really had the input of someone who knows more about a person’s power than us going against our own outlook before.’

‘I’m just worried it opens a can of worms. Is it one exemption or does it become the norm? And if it becomes the norm, where would it end? It could unravel what little control I have over these kids’ tendency for the dramatic.’

‘Maybe it would. Or maybe Yuzu’s advice here is about something more than summits and ministries: maybe he’s trying to make us look at Shoma in a different light for the longer term.’

‘What, you think he might be another power anomaly? Like Yuzu? I thought you said he was definitely a Healer, right?’

‘From what I’ve seen he is, sure. But a strong one. One who Yuzu sees something in; which is something of a first, because usually my Healers don’t interest him so much, since it’s an area of power he’s completely accomplished at himself. But Yuzu’s power is different around him too – it’s hard to explain, but I see it, in flashes. There’s something there, I just can’t tell you for sure what it might be.’

‘So you think something bigger is going on here than Yuzu wanting to decide who he ends up sitting next to on the plane…?’

‘Yuzuru Hanyu causing mischief? Now why ever would I be thinking that?!’

‘God, I wish I knew how to even be mad at him. But…I can’t. There are things we don’t revisit with him that maybe we should, things we’ve almost encouraged him not to talk about because I think maybe we couldn’t take the answers.’

‘Well, like you said: the last time we went back and forth over a decision on an official visit, it was on taking him to his hometown. And I probably was the one who ultimately talked you into doing it, but even now I still don’t know if we made the right call there. Maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong; to this day I sometimes think about that awful night when you called and told me he was missing. I replay it over and over, that panic. And the moment you brought him back here when, for a second, I thought it would be ok. Until I took one look at him and realised it wouldn’t be that simple. I remember when you asked me if there was any hope of getting him back from that edge and I remember how hopeless it felt to admit that I didn’t know. But…I also remember that we did get him back. Every stubborn, powerful piece of him restored. And I know that, if we asked Yuzu? He would tell us it was his choice to do what he did: to go on the trip, to run off, to be headstrong. And that choice? It matters to him.’

‘But the question is what choice exactly do we put to Shoma? And how much of that choice will end up being his and how much will Yuzu feel like he has to shoulder if things go wrong somehow?’

 

The sound of a phone ringing made Shoma’s heart beat out of his chest for a moment. But it wasn’t his, and as he heard Brian answer the call above him, he quietly let out a breath and relaxed back against the wall just a little. The pause gave him a chance to feel the sting of what he’d just heard more acutely, to let it sink in that Yuzuru had been told to talk to him about something that directly affected him and had chosen not to. He hadn’t had faith in him, had spoken of him like a means to an end rather than a friend. Yuzuru hadn’t been himself with Shoma after all – and all the honesty Shoma offered him had clearly been given on a misunderstanding of what they were to each other. The idea of being Yuzuru Hanyu’s equal was laughable, he knew that. But he had just about been getting used to the possibility that that was how Yuzuru saw him, that that was what their nights sharing stories in the safety of the garden had made them into, even if only for a few hours at a time. He felt sick, an acidy taste building in the back of his throat and his skin growing flushed at his neck. He desperately wished he could go home, throw himself onto his childhood bed and wait for Itsuki to come and find him and talk him down. But he didn’t have that option. Home was thousands of miles away, and the concept of home he had built for himself at the Foundation had, he realised, been mostly tied up in a person who had clearly been pretending.

 

All Shoma could hear in his head was the circle of his own thoughts. _You’re a miracle_. Because of the powers he had? _Inside you, a whole sun._ Because that’s what fitted into Yuzuru’s riddles the best? _I won’t forget._ Because everything Yuzuru did ended up in his notebooks, in case it was important to some theory or experiment later? _I’ll miss you._ Because Shoma was a game he’d enjoyed playing with, a distraction he’d grown used to? _I chose you._ Because he thought he had to for the sake of his own ambitions? At least it was all loud enough to drown out the sense of Yuzuru’s power, playing, as always, on the outskirts of his consciousness like the most annoying, determined little wasp that couldn’t take a hint.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there trying to put himself back together, but he was aware, dimly, in the back of his mind, that if he stood there long enough then people would start to arrive, gathering in their usual groups before morning sessions began. And Yuzuru would be amongst them; he’d probably been up since first light already, had probably put his headphones in and wandered down for an early breakfast on his own before meeting up with some of his friends and making promises to join them for lunch, handing in some piece of work to one of the mentors, or collecting some new paper from the research department for him to bring down to the garden and read out to Shoma later. Except Shoma wasn’t going to be there. He’d made up his mind. Maybe avoidance wasn’t the mature, grown up thing to do with the big, burning ball of emotion growing larger by the second in the pit of his stomach – but it was all he was able for. He felt hemmed in and wound tight and too full up; he felt things he normally managed to keep down and he needed time and space to untangle them, split them out into strands he could follow to a conclusion before he could be sure how he wanted to feel and act and think.

 

When he got back to his room he was breathing heavy and hard and he practically slammed the door shut behind him, feeling oddly frantic. He brought his hands up to his face and let his jelly-legs finally collapse under him; he slid down the door and brought his knees up to his chest, bending his head forwards to rest on them and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. He felt so shaky he wasn’t sure he’d ever manage to stand up again.

 

And then, somewhere in the back of his consciousness, something prickled. He pulled himself in tight and let out the softest of whimpers, throwing up every wall he had and hunkering his power down deep inside of himself. _Not. Now._ A moment later his phone chimed. Shoma didn’t need to pull it out to know it was him and he thrust his hand into his pocket, feeling for the power button and pressing it down so forcefully it was a wonder he didn’t break it. _I don’t want your doe-eyed show of concern._ _Not now, maybe not ever._

Did he feel like a fool or did he feel furious? Did he want to hide or did he want to scream in Yuzuru’s face that he was a traitor? What was worse: to admit how profoundly he had misunderstood their relationship by letting on how much the wound was tearing at him, or to play at Yuzuru’s game and walk away like they were just two jigsaw pieces who served no purpose to each other beyond completing the puzzle of their powers? He wanted to go back over every conversation and try and find the faultlines, he wanted to pick over Yuzuru’s words and turn them over and over in his head until he felt like he could discern the real from the false. And yet he also wanted to not do any of it. To never think of it again. To not feel like he'd lost something it turned out he might have never had a hold of in the first place. Was this what had made Yuzuru so dangerous: he was damaged like this, only unlike Shoma he had learnt how to survive it? Shoma pushed the thought down and quickly opened his eyes, blinking against the dim grey light of the room. He was hurt and he was angry, but he wasn’t going to go there. Yuzuru had shown him genuine kindness, however ingenuine the motives, and he wouldn’t start unravelling everything just to spite him. He just needed some peace – if he still remembered how to find that without the curious balm of thunderclouds at his back.

 

He eventually managed to get up off the floor, going over to the window ledge and climbing up to sit there with his temple pressed against the comforting cold of the glass. He finally faced his phone, ignoring the stack of messages piling up from Yuzuru in favour of sending Satoko and Keiji pathetic excuses about not feeling well and feeling guilty when they quickly replied with sympathy and offers of getting him anything he needed. He managed to put them off coming and sitting with him, but they both insisted they would check on him later and he didn’t have the heart to tell them not to.

 

Shoma wasn’t sure of when the last time a day had passed so slowly was – wasn’t sure he’d ever known a time when his head had been simultaneously so empty and so full. Games and music could only distract him in small bursts, and even with his phone turned off he still somehow couldn’t stop thinking about the messages from Yuzuru no doubt still piling up in his inbox. Too much of his life at the Foundation circled him back to Yuzuru – even looking over things for university just reminded him of all the times he and Yuzuru had sat side by side in silence, each plugged into their headphones and staring at computer screens as they worked in happy harmony. In the end he pulled up a film on his laptop and stared unseeingly at it until Keiji and Satoko knocked on his door bearing gifts of soup and aspirin and simple snacks; he wasn’t sure how well he fooled them, given the piercing look Satoko had given him and the frown on Keiji’s face, but Satoko had seemed at least a little placated when she’d felt his forehead and begrudgingly admitted he felt “clammy” before telling him to get some sleep. Satoko had watched him like a hawk as he ate, whilst Keiji had gone round the room tidying the place, telling Shoma about the disastrous Team Japan lunch that day and his misadventures in sessions, kindly making no comment when he found Yuzuru’s jacket in a heap beside Shoma’s backpack.

 

In the end the two of them had left him with instructions to feel better soon and Shoma had almost been overwhelmed with gratitude for their unquestioning kindness, that was until Keiji had ruined it by shooting him an assessing look from the doorway.

‘Can you please at least tell Yuzu you’re not dead? He’s been anxious all day about you; he says he can’t sense you and it’s freaking him out.’ Shoma nodded vaguely, unable to meet his eyes, and Keiji sighed deeply. ‘You didn’t tell me he could sense you.’

‘He can sense everybody.’

‘Fine: you didn’t tell me he specifically went looking for your energy. You two are obviously close – if something’s on your mind, maybe you should talk to him?’

‘I’m fine. It’s just a bug. I’m sure I’ll be ok soon.’

‘If you’re sure, Shoma. But I’m here, if you need to talk.’

 

It was an offer Shoma regretted resisting; he hadn’t imagined wanting to talk to anyone, but as day blurred tediously slowly into night he felt the loneliness overwhelm him. Midnight arrived, unwelcome and quiet, and Shoma stared resolutely at his bedroom ceiling, trying to pretend it didn’t bother him that he wasn’t crossing the courtyard and pushing open the hidden gate. He tried not to wonder if Yuzuru was there waiting for him; that would involve delving into the complication of his feelings about the fact Yuzuru’s energy had withdrawn entirely since that afternoon, less like the tide going out and more like a lake that had dried up in the height of summer only to be replaced by a cracked and arid dessert and an absence that couldn’t quite be defined.

 

At home he would’ve been forced into opening up by now, because Itsuki would’ve complained incessantly about Shoma’s moping and then put his finger on the problem without Shoma needing to say more than three words. Itsuki could be depended upon that way. And it seemed that was true no matter the distance between them. Shoma wasn’t sure what time it was when the call tone interrupted the quiet, jangling his fractured nerves and making him jump; the only thing he focused on was Itsuki’s name on the screen and the wild relief that filled his chest at the sight of it.

 

‘Hey, Loser!’ Itsuki looked so genuinely happy to see him that Shoma couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a profound burst of immense gratitude for his younger brother. The image was pixelated and washed-out, but it was a tiny window of home and that was something; Itsuki was walking back from the bus stop, their usual catch-up time at the end of rough days, and the familiarity of it was exactly what Shoma had been missing without Yuzuru’s garden to retreat to. ‘You’re on your own tonight?’ Itsuki frowned, lifting his phone a little and squinting down at the screen, trying to make sense of the darkness of Shoma’s room despite the bright sunlight he was standing in. ‘What happened to Superpower Boy? You get bored of magic tricks already?’ Shoma winced and looked down, playing with the ends of his sleeves.

‘Not exactly,’ he sighed, chewing at his lip as he tried to get his thoughts in order. ‘Yuzu is just…Yuzu, I guess. And maybe that’s not what I thought it was.’ When he looked back up his brother was studying him curiously, eyes narrowed.

‘Do I need to fly over there and fight him for you?’ he joked, his smile soft and kind, and Shoma managed a small, sad laugh.

‘I can fight my own battles, thanks,’ he smiled quietly, rolling his eyes.

‘Well that’s good, because I didn’t really fancy taking on someone who can turn people to dust with a single look,’ Itsuki shot back amiably and Shoma smirked slightly.

‘I don’t think he can actually do that, you know,’ he pointed out and Itsuki shrugged.

‘I don’t know, he seems to have done a number on you,’ he remarked, looking Shoma up and down. Even through a pixelated video call, Shoma knew Itsuki saw right through him. ‘What _did_ he do exactly?’

‘It’s kind of hard to explain. Maybe it’s more about what he didn’t do, I guess. I just…I overheard something that I shouldn’t. And it made me start to question why he’s even friends with me.’ Shoma shrugged somewhat helplessly, looking up with a heavy sigh and being surprised to find himself struggling to keep back a sudden prickle of tears. ‘This is so dumb, I don’t even know why I’m so upset.’

‘You and him are close though, right?’ Itsuki said, and Shoma was grateful for his matter-of-fact tone, his willingness to pretend they were talking about something simple and that Shoma’s voice hadn’t been cracked and worn at the edges the moment they’d started discussing Yuzuru.

‘Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I got him wrong.’ Shoma swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment. ‘He told me secrets and stories and all these little pieces of this puzzle that he’s made of himself that no one else ever seems to realise are there…’ He looked back at Itsuki sadly, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I thought that mattered. But after what Brian and Tracy were talking about, I’m starting to wonder if it was all just a bargaining chip so he could get the same in return.’

‘You mean so he could get to know about your power?’ Shoma nodded and Itsuki’s features crumpled into a frown. ‘Sho, someone like him would have way easier ways of doing that than trying to work around the total human disaster that is you, all whilst simultaneously providing you with heaps of super-secret information he must know you could run to the media with back here and make a fortune out of.’

 

Itsuki stared Shoma down for a beat and, when Shoma simply resumed biting at his lip and glanced away, he let out an exasperated sigh. ‘You are the dumbest person, you know that?’

‘Shut up; you don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Shoma muttered.

‘Like I have to know every conversation you and Superpower Boy have been having to know you two were thick as thieves; I have eyes.’ Shoma shot him a glare and Itsuki pulled a face at him. ‘Don’t pout at me because you’re not as inscrutable as you think you are.’

‘It’s not like it matters anyway: if he was saying one thing and thinking another then it changes everything. I’m not going to waste my time being around someone who thinks of me as some kind of fun power experiment first and a person second.’

‘And it’s really that bad?’ Itsuki said, seeming genuinely taken aback. Shoma groaned softly and rubbed his hands over his face.

‘I don’t know,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t know what I think anymore. I thought me and him told each other stuff – I thought we were honest with each other.’

‘You thought he knew you,’ Itsuki said gently. Shoma sucked at his lip and closed his eyes.

‘I thought he believed in me.’ It ached to say the words out loud.

 

When he opened his eyes Itsuki had stopped walking and was looking down at him with a curious mixture of sympathy and frustration.

‘What did he say? When you asked him about what you heard?’ It was a pointed question. Itsuki wasn’t asking because he expected Shoma to reel off some terrible quote that proved Yuzuru to be the villain of the story and made it easy to write him off as an awful friend. Itsuki was asking because he wanted Shoma to admit to closing up and shutting down and hiding in his room all day without so much as a “I can’t talk to you right now” in Yuzuru’s direction. Itsuki was asking because he wanted Shoma to know he was on his side, but that he was also prepared to call him out for just how dumb his side might be.

 

Shoma couldn’t bring himself to look up; his eyes drifted instead to where Keiji had folded up Yuzuru’s jacket neatly and left it on the window ledge. He wondered, absently, if it still smelt of jasmine and bergamot or if he’d ruined it with chocolate crumbs and fries. ‘Shoma,’ Itsuki said forcefully, finally bringing Shoma’s eyes back to the screen. ‘Did you talk to him at all? Or did you shrink up inside your shell like the gigantic pain you actually are and not even tell him what was wrong?’

‘I just needed space to think, ok? There was no point going to him when he was around everyone else, they’d all be on his side anyway.’

‘You’re always up so late – have you been staying up with him? Is that when you have all these secret conversations that aren’t fit for all the boring-power-having people’s ears?’ Shoma clenched his jaw and looked away. ‘So that’s a yes then,’ Itsuki surmised. ‘So why aren’t you with him now? Asking for his side of the story instead of whining to me about your tragic life?’

 

Shoma knew he didn’t really have an excuse which Itsuki would accept, so he simply shook his head. There was a line along the inside of his cheek which he had chewed raw, and he started on it again as he looked back at his brother with a half-shrug.

‘What do you want me to tell you? You won’t get it. You don’t take as long to sort through stuff as I do. I just…need space. I need to be able to work out how I feel without his power in my ears all the time and it’s next to impossible because he is _so loud_.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know how to explain it to you, what it’s like to sense someone. And sensing someone like Yuzu…’

‘Ok, fine; so you’re right, it’s not something I can get. But that’s not the point. Not the one I’m making. I might not know what it’s like to sense someone, but I know what it’s like to be the person you shut out,’ Itsuki shot back, calm and kind despite his obvious exasperation with Shoma’s reasoning. ‘If you need time, tell him you need time. Better yet, actually bother telling him why. You close up because you feel so hurt so fast and I get that. But if he senses too then he probably feels a whole heap worse than I ever do when you give me the cold shoulder. And I feel pretty rough. At least I don’t have to know what that feels like inside though – but I bet you he does.’ Shoma winced at that, bringing a hand up to his face and letting out a small hiss.

‘Well, crap,’ he said under his breath.

‘What?’ Itsuki frowned and Shoma waved a vague, dismissive hand, biting a little harder at his lip.

‘Nothing, it’s just…something he said to me not long ago. About ice inside and feeling sunlight. It’s…it’s a secret so I can’t…’ Shoma shook his head and closed his eyes, swallowing down the lump which had formed in his throat. ‘I forgot. I was so angry with him I forgot how it might seem for me to suddenly just-’

‘Freeze him out?’

‘Yeah. That,’ Shoma admitted in a whisper. Itsuki looked at him thoughtfully.

‘Look…I don’t really know anything about Yuzuru Hanyu except what the internet says, and that stuff people write? It’s all either uselessly mean or a whole load of gushing. You can’t make sense of the sort of person he really is without seeing him caught in a moment when he’s forgotten the camera’s on him.’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘Clearly you’ve seen that. But…I saw it too. Some of it anyway.’ Shoma looked up at Itsuki curiously and he rolled his eyes at Shoma. ‘Sho, he was right there the whole time we were talking the other night; I could see him over your shoulder.’ He pulled a face. ‘Who knows what he sees in you, but he obviously sees something – he was so happy just about you being there. Every time you bumped into his shoulder his pen was jarring on his page, and every time he would look up at you like he was about to tell you off. But instead of telling you off like a normal person he’d just smile a stupid, dopey smile at the back of your head and go back to what he was doing. It was…I don’t know, kind of sweet, honestly.’

‘It doesn’t change the fact he lied to me,’ Shoma said somewhat sulkily, almost laughing at the dark, despairing look Itsuki shot him.

‘It doesn’t change the fact he _maybe_ lied to you, potentially, for reasons you have no idea about, based on information from other people who probably don’t even realise you two are Best Friends Forever now or whatever it is you two even are. Power Buddies? Weird Super-Skill Twins? The Raging Insomniacs Club? Human Disasters United?’

‘Itsuki, shut up.’

‘No, not until you realise I actually have a point.’

‘First time for everything.’

‘Shoma, I’m serious!’

‘Fine. But can you just…please tell me exactly what it is you’re trying to get at? Because my head is already way too messed up right now and I’m just not up to metaphors and riddles.’

‘How are we related? You are a mess of a person, do you know that?’

‘I will hang up on you.’

‘Alright, alright!’ Itsuki huffed, rolling his eyes melodramatically. ‘All I’m saying is…it seems like a lot of trouble to go to, for someone who is powerful in, like, every sense of the word. He’s going to put on this big act of spending time with you to the point where he’s literally even sitting studying with you on a Saturday night like there’s nowhere better he could be and no better offers he could find to fill that time? For…what, exactly? Your power? He could probably use his power to get at your power, right? Or just make the Foundation people go bring you to him or something? Like, he could’ve told all of them what he knows about your power, given away all your secrets…and it would’ve been so much easier for him to do it? But instead he fences off his late nights to sit and be boring with you? And to commit to the part to the point he was still acting it out even for my sake – even though he couldn’t have known I could even see him?’ Itsuki stared Shoma down for a beat and Shoma squirmed, suddenly feeling his chest tighten as a hundred memories of the tiny, in-between moments with Yuzuru which he’d taken for granted came flooding into his head. Itsuki let out a deep sigh. ‘Urgh, you are the worst, sometimes, Sho. Seriously. Will you just promise me you’ll think about talking to him?’ Shoma nodded vaguely and Itsuki studied his face with concern. ‘I know you take it hard, Sho. When people let you down, I know it hurts you more than you let on. I know a lot of things hurt you more than you even tell me. I’m not trying to say you shouldn’t feel that way. I’m just…trying to stop you making this worse than it is just because the noise in your head is overwhelming you.’ Shoma managed a small smile at that, meeting Itsuki’s eyes gratefully.

‘Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but: you’re a really good brother, you know that?’ Itsuki smiled back at him, quiet and gentle.

‘And you are too. Most of the time. I probably owed you this moment, the number of times you’ve been there for me, right?’

‘No. There’s no keeping score.’ Shoma glanced down, expression turning sad again. ‘And if it helps you get where I’m coming from at all? That’s kind of what I thought I’d found in Yuzu. Someone who wouldn’t keep score, you know?’ He shrugged. ‘What I heard, though? It just made me wonder if I should’ve been keeping score after all, just in case.’

‘I doubt it. It’s not who you are, Shoma. But…if it helps? I didn’t get the impression it’s who Yuzu is either. I know it’s not much I had to go on but…you’ve seemed pretty happy the last few times we’ve spoken. It was nice, to know you weren’t so homesick and lost – I know you’re my big brother and all but I do worry about you. So…if he was anything to do with that change, then I feel like maybe you should think carefully before you run the risk of throwing it away. You deserve to be more yourself that way, Sho; not enough people know how cool you are because you’re always so quiet. I think he was slowly getting you to turn your volume up. I don’t see why someone only out for themselves would bother doing that. I don’t see why someone who can click their fingers and get what they want right away wouldn’t just…click their fingers. And get what they want. _Right away_.’

‘Because Yuzu’s not like that.’

‘Says the guy who’s supposedly mad at him right now!’

‘Because I know that much is true; anyone here would tell you the same thing.’

‘And doesn’t that tell you something? Anything at all? Don’t you think that someone who’d rather people knew him because they wanted to, not because he told them to, would probably also rather get to know others because he wanted to, not because he felt like he had to?’

 

Shoma took Itsuki’s words to heart; it didn’t take away the panicked, wrongfooted feeling in his chest, but it coaxed him out of his total withdrawal. Day was breaking beyond his window, and his head felt heavy, muzzy-quiet at last. He closed his eyes and pulled the pillow close, curling around it and trying not to think about the jacket still sitting on his window ledge. As he balanced on the brink of sleep, he could feel his power taking matters into its own hands, could feel it reaching out for the comfort Shoma had been trying to deny himself. To his surprise, Yuzuru’s power reached back in a heartbeat; it rushed in like the sea hitting the shore during a storm, and for a moment Shoma could almost taste saltwater, could almost feel the frantic surge of it building up in his lungs. His breath stuttered a little and he tried to swallow the feeling down, tried to pull his power back in, but it wouldn’t come. He couldn’t want it enough. Because Yuzuru’s power felt electric and familiar; it wrapped around him fiercely, and threw itself over his whole being like a blanket, protective and grateful. There was a faint, musical whisper in his ears that sounded almost like Yuzuru’s, repeating “You’re ok”, like it was a realisation and a promise, until finally Shoma’s eyelids grew heavier again and he sank back against the pillow with the softest of sighs. His skin was still dancing with lightning bolts even as he drifted off to sleep.

 

Shoma ended up sleeping through most of Tuesday. Keiji and Satoko took pity on him at first, bringing him food and tales of their adventures in mixed sessions, but Shoma could see the looks the two of them kept exchanging and he knew they were building up to telling him something he didn’t want to hear, or perhaps asking something he didn’t want to answer. They were halfway through watching a film together when Satoko finally caved.

 

‘Yuzu wasn’t in sessions today.’ It burst out of her without warning, and she winced as she said it, closing her eyes and scrunching herself in tight as though there was any realistic possibility that Shoma was going to shout at her for bringing it up. Keiji eyed Shoma curiously from his other side, expectant and curious, and Shoma looked between the two of them, perplexed.

‘And this is anything to do with me because…?’ he prompted. Satoko opened her eyes and looked at him with an unimpressed little frown.

‘You haven’t come out of your room in two days, Shoma,’ she pointed out dryly.

‘Two days during which Yuzu has been a paranoid mess, followed by an absent mess,’ Keiji added, elbowing Shoma in the side. ‘Coincidence?’ he prompted, eyebrows raised, and Shoma wished bitterly that he wasn’t trapped between the two of them and hemmed in by Keiji’s laptop on the bed in front.

‘I told you I’m-’

‘Sick,’ Keiji finished with a roll of his eyes. ‘Which we were buying until you ate half your own body weight in takeaway, maybe.’

‘Maybe _you_ were buying it,’ Satoko said archly, her smile knowing, and Shoma looked over at her with a half-hearted glare. ‘Shoma, we’re just worried about you,’ she sighed. ‘We won’t make you talk about it if you’re not ready, but we can’t just let you hide in your room forever either.’ Satoko laid one of her small, dainty hands on his arm and leant in to look him in the eye. ‘You’re stronger than you’re letting yourself be right now,’ she said firmly. Keiji nudged him from his other side.

‘The last time Yuzu missed sessions was because he was in the hospital, Shoma,’ he said quietly. ‘Maybe you should take that into consideration before assuming you don’t matter to him.’ Shoma nodded vaguely, glancing once more at the jacket on the window ledge and remembering the feeling of Yuzuru’s magic flooding his system like a tidal wave as he fell asleep.

‘Maybe,’ he murmured. Satoko gave his arm another squeeze, laying her head on his shoulder.

‘Remember, Shoma: shooting stars and comets are damaged goods. No thing we see or hear is as simple as it seems at first – there is always more to things when you get close to them than what you see of them as they pass you in the sky. But you have to be brave enough to ask the question: what did I really see, what do I really know? You might realise there is more to this passing thing than what you thought. Or you might realise the sky is clearer with it reduced to ashes on the ground and nothing more.’

 

Shoma hadn’t exactly been filled with enthusiasm for Wednesday’s morning meeting or the prospect of sitting through lectures, but he knew he didn’t stand a chance of Keiji and Satoko letting him spend another day in his room, and there were even threats from Kanako being added to the collection of concerned messages piling up on his phone, which instilled a deep fear in him, since he was well aware she would have no problem marching him into Wednesday lectures in his pyjamas if she had to. And so it was that he found himself sitting in the hazy sunlight of early morning in the courtyard, surrounded by Team Japan and half-listening to Wakaba’s dramatic retelling of how she and Evgenia had accidentally managed to lock themselves out of their rooms the previous night.

 

‘Do you need me to kick Yuzuru for you? Because if he hurt you, I will kick him. Only I can be mean to you, Shoma – and no one should ever make you cry,’ Kanako said, sitting down next to him as she joined the group, cutting across Wakaba’s sentence and causing everyone to look over at Shoma with concerned eyes.

‘Kana, I told you to be tactful,’ Mao complained lightly, smacking Kanako’s arm and sighing heavily, rolling her eyes.

‘I will be tactful when I know Shoma is ok,’ she retorted, pouting at Mao for a moment before looking back at Shoma with a soft, hopeful expression. Shoma managed a small, shy smile, shifting uncomfortably under the group’s collective gaze.

‘I was fine until you started drawing attention to me,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘And please don’t kick Yuzu,’ he added more quietly, his expression somewhat pained. ‘I’m not really sure he deserves it, and he has enough to deal with without me setting you on him.’ Kanako frowned slightly.

‘No fun – I was looking forward to chasing him round with vengeance in my heart,’ she sulked playfully and Shoma managed a laugh.

‘Don’t you do that to him on a daily basis anyway?’ he joked and Kanako laughed, nudging him impishly.

‘Shoma! I missed you!’ she declared and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘It was two days, can people stop being so dramatic,’ he sighed. ‘I didn’t feel well, I keep telling you.’ He wasn’t entirely sure why he was persisting with the lie that none of Team Japan, not even the newest members, seemed willing to believe, but he felt strangely protective of Yuzuru despite everything, and he was desperate not to be the cause of any unlikely rift in the usually tight-knit group.

 

Shoma had almost relaxed and shaken off his nerves when he felt a sudden shiver; someone’s energy was abruptly invading his space with force and determination, cutting across the space in a way that made Shoma feel like everything had suddenly shifted sideways. He felt his breathing quicken, his eyes scanning the space for the cause. It wasn’t Yuzuru, he knew that much, although mercifully Yuzuru was mixed in there too, as always, because there was an electric undercurrent somewhere close and it was the only thing stopping Shoma from passing out, something he clung on to for dear life as the other energy closed in on him.

 

‘Shoma!’ Shoma looked over with wide, panicked eyes at the sound of his name being called across the courtyard. The voice was warm and rough and lilting; something that was usually gentle and fond but had that had been turned fierce. _Javier_.

‘Javi, come on, don’t be mad at Shoma,’ Takahito said, gentle, soft and calm as he touched a hand to Javier’s arm when he approached their little group, but Javier barely glanced at him, his dark brown gaze fixed seriously upon Shoma. He didn’t look excessively angry, but Shoma could feel a stern disapproval radiating off him and it made him want to shrink back and hide. ‘Javi,’ Takahito said again, a little more firmly. ‘Come on, Yuzu had a lot going on yesterday and only one small part of it was anything to do with Shoma – we don’t even know the full story.’ Javier glanced at him, his expression conflicted as he looked from Takahito to Shoma and back again. Despite himself Shoma felt a prickle of concern, his forehead creasing into the gentlest of frowns.

‘Is Yuzu ok?’ he asked, looking to Takahito and avoiding the reproachful look Javier shot him. Takahito offered him a small smile.

‘Of course, Shoma. It’s just the usual stuff, you know? Yesterday he had to go and speak with Brian and the Japanese ministry about the summit, and then he had to give phone interviews to the summit organisers and some foreign media too. It…wasn’t great timing for him to be in the mood he was in,’ Takahito said carefully. Shoma winced.

‘I didn’t realise,’ he whispered, looking down at his hands, wringing them together nervously.

‘No. You didn’t think to talk to him either, so of course you couldn’t have known how terrible your timing was,’ Javier put in, sounding painfully disappointed. ‘He couldn’t face sessions after all that – he was making himself ill so I told him to go to bed. And the most worrying part of all this? He did. Without fighting me.’

 

Shoma closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying push the force of Javier’s energy out of his head and get the world to stop tilting – he swallowed hard and clung on, once more, to the faint, distant sensation of thunderclouds, aware of the irony but desperate for the relief the feeling still provided. ‘No one can right a wrong they’re never told about, Shoma – no one can be treated like they are not worth your time without good reason, and there is no good reason if you don’t even bother to ask for their side of the story. Where is the guy who told me he listened, who said you had to go looking for a person’s stories? Where is the guy who told Yuzu he was only human and actually got him to listen to it? Because I’m not understanding where this went backwards, Shoma. I’m not understanding when he became a picture in a newspaper to you again – someone who can be picked up and discarded according to nothing more than what way the wind might be blowing today.’ Shoma looked up at Javier helplessly, biting down on his lip at one corner and tasting blood.

‘That’s not what I’m doing, you don’t understand. I just-’ He stopped, taking a moment to swallow down the crack in his voice. ‘That’s not what I’m doing. That’s not how I’m treating him – that’s how he treated me.’ Javier looked at him with a disbelieving frown.

‘Yuzu. Treated you like you weren’t a person. Yuzuru Hanyu, who has time for everyone and his hamster?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Shoma, I don’t know what you think you know, who you’ve chosen to believe or what terrible thing you’ve decided to read in to some offhand action Yuzu might have made…but we both know that cruelty is not his nature. How can you shut him out so effectively I thought he was going to burst into tears any moment from worry, but then still make this his fault? You said you needed to learn to be listened to: so let him hear you. It’s that simple – he doesn’t ask for anything else. You don’t even have to be friends with him afterwards if you don’t want to; you just have to tell him why.’

 

Shoma opened his mouth to speak but no words came out and he closed his eyes again, squeezing them tightly shut and shaking his head.

‘I don’t know if I…I just…I _can’t_ …not yet. Not now.’ His chest felt tight and he was grateful for Satoko and Kanako’s gentle hands touching his back.

‘Javi,’ Keiji said in a sad, soft voice. ‘Come on, not here, not now – people are looking and they’re going to ask questions.’

‘Everyone just thinks Shoma was sick, nothing else,’ Satoko put in quietly.

‘And if Yuzu was doing interviews then there’s no need to blow this all out of proportion and have people start putting things together to make crazy stories. Whether there’s more to it or not, it’s Yuzu and Shoma’s business, not ours,’ Keiji added.

‘But it becomes _everyone’s_ business if Yuzu can’t do what he needs to,’ Javier said, his voice sounding more anxious than angry, and Shoma looked up at him with glassy eyes.

‘Please tell me: is he ok?’

‘Why don’t you go ask him yourself, instead of hiding and trying to make him into a villain for reasons he doesn’t even understand?’ Javier suggested. He had softened since he had first appeared; Shoma could see something conflicted in his eyes and it almost hurt more than his anger. Javier had been so friendly towards him since the night they had cleared the air – had treated him with brotherly affection and gentle, teasing despair, just as he did Yuzuru. He had magnanimously accepted Shoma’s sudden admittance to the tight circle he and Yuzuru surrounded themselves with without complaint or jealousy, never making Shoma feel anything other than welcome there. Shoma felt like he had broken a promise he never realised he’d made, and he desperately wanted to put it right, to see the fondness return to Javier’s kind, expressive eyes and feel the sunny, roguish dance of his energy. ‘Shoma, I’m not trying to be awful about this, ok? I’m not trying to jump on you or make wild accusations. But I know Yuzuru. I know how he gets when he senses something awful, I know how he gets when a friend stops feeling the way he expects when he senses them. And I’ve made the mistake of letting it go one too many times – but this time? This is too important. _You_ are too important of a friend to him.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Shoma managed in a small voice, looking up at Javier with wide, pleading eyes. He was losing his grip on the feeling of Yuzuru; he sensed it slipping to the back of his mind and it made everything feel even worse. It dipped and dipped until there was nearly nothing for Shoma to hold on to, and for a second he felt almost frantic in wanting to cling on. And then he realised he recognised that strange, ebbing feeling; it was how it felt the moment before the feeling came rushing back in, when the water receded before the most towering of waves crashed over him.

 

Shoma held his breath, almost expectant. And then, out of the nothing, he felt the spark. A bright, crackling lightning strike; a wild bolt of power across the air that seemed to shoot about everywhere, fierce and protectively rancorous. He had no idea how no one else could feel even a trace of it when it filled the air so completely Shoma felt he was even breathing some of that lightning in. Shoma half collapsed with the feeling, his head dipping as he bent forward slightly, letting out a soft, grateful whimper and closing his eyes so as not to cry in front of so many people.

‘ _Javi_.’ Yuzuru’s voice was sharp but calm, something unyielding in the way he cut across the courtyard with one simple word, commanding their whole group’s attention with steely resolve. Shoma wanted to look up but he didn’t dare; as hurt as he had felt by Yuzuru, he was too relieved by his presence in that moment to trust himself to do anything but wrap his arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. The thought of crying into the crook of his neck shouldn’t have been so appealing, shouldn’t have been something Shoma wanted until it ached inside his ribcage. But it was. It did. ‘Javi,’ Yuzu said again, less of a warning and more of a demand somehow. His voice was closer now, and Shoma could feel the cool steadiness of him, knew he was close enough to reach out and touch. He could picture the look on his face and the way he was standing, he could even picture the silent argument he and Javier were having with their eyes whilst the rest of Team Japan looked on aghast. ‘What part of “Leave it alone, it’s not a big deal” were you not paying attention to, huh?’ Yuzuru said, a peculiar mix of gentleness and frustration in his tone. ‘You want to act like this is some drama? Do it somewhere quiet at least. This is morning meeting on Wednesday lectures, the biggest audience you could find: I don’t need any more gossip, Javi, least of all from the few people in the world I count on not to treat me like the kid off the news.’

‘Look, I’m sorry, ok? But you were pretending everything was fine and it wasn’t; I wanted to fix it. I wanted to help.’

‘By getting in Shoma’s head when he’s clearly overwhelmed already?’ Yuzuru challenged. ‘He’s not feeling well and you ambushed him; where is the helpful part? If one of his friends did the same to me you would go crazy over it. Be sensible.’ Shoma almost smiled at the sound of that fierceness in his voice; he knew his eyebrow was quirked, his lips curving into a sharp, unimpressed smile that was anything but happy. ‘Not everyone is like you, Javi: emotion isn’t something you are entitled to from a person just because you expect it, everyone has their own way to cope and you can’t assume to know what’s going on in someone’s head because the emotion comes out differently to how you expect.’

‘I know this, Yuzu, but are you really telling me that’s all that’s going on here?’

‘Don’t make me fight with you; you know this is crazy. You know this is too much,’ Yuzuru replied, simple and calm. ‘Everyone is tense right now – you’re no more immune than I am. You’re just misdirecting it and taking it out on Shoma. And I won’t let you, ok?’ Javier let out a long sigh.

‘Fine. Ok.’ There was a pause in which Shoma risked looking up. Javier glanced over at him, his expression defeated and a little contrite. ‘I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t…I know I shouldn’t have laid in on you right this moment, you know? But I won’t say I didn’t mean what I told you,’ he said quietly. Shoma just nodded vaguely, eyes turning cautiously to Yuzuru, who was looking at him with a quiet, steady gaze – to the rest of them it was surely unreadable, but to Shoma it was something familiar, the look when Yuzuru let his power centre and calm after a lightning burst, the look when he dispelled his electricity and became caring and soft once more.

 

Yuzuru studied Shoma’s face for a moment, something sad but fond glimmering in the depths of his eyes. He offered Shoma the smallest of smiles, stepping forward to crouch down so their faces were almost level and reaching out to touch a hand to Shoma’s chin, holding it just firmly enough that he couldn’t look away. Shoma felt his heart stutter slightly at the tender way Yuzuru looked at him, at the way his eyes roamed his face like he was cataloguing every detail he saw there, tracing a path from the hot, wine-coloured rash of a blush at his jawline, along to the sore, jagged red marks along his lips where he’d bitten them raw, then up to his damp eyelashes and the curling strands of his fringe. ‘Are you ok?’ Yuzuru asked, voice so soft Shoma wondered if anyone but him had even heard him speak. He swallowed hard and managed a small uncertain nod by way of a reply and when Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him slightly he let out a tiny, damp little laugh from the back of his throat despite himself, rolling his eyes and turning them skywards for just a moment as he steadied his breath. ‘Overwhelmed?’ Yuzuru said, knowing. Shoma fought back the lump in his throat and looked back into Yuzuru’s eyes earnestly, giving another faint nod. Yuzuru nodded too, his eyes still intent as he searched Shoma’s face for something. ‘You need space?’ He phrased it like a question, but Shoma knew he’d already been puzzled out.

‘Yeah,’ he breathed, short and strangled, and Yuzuru nodded again.

‘Ok,’ he said gently, glancing over at Kanako and raising his eyebrows slightly. ‘You think you could find Mihoko? Tell her Shoma isn’t feeling well and I think maybe she should sit with him until he feels better. I’ll tell Brian; Jeff can fill the gap in the morning schedule for today.’ He said it so simply, and with such an air of authority, that Shoma couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed by the scene all this was causing; Yuzuru had come in and taken charge, made Shoma feel safe with the same ease he always did, as if nothing was fractured between them. He was the calm and the storm, the fire and the ice. Everything; he was always everything.

‘Sure, no problem,’ Kanako told him, giving Shoma’s arm a small squeeze and then getting to her feet. She paused a moment, placing a hand on Yuzuru’s head, and he looked up at her enquiringly. ‘I give you a hard time, but you’re kind of the sweetest, you know that?’ she told him fondly, and Yuzuru offered her a small smile.

‘Don’t be nice to me, it feels so unnatural it kind of creeps me out,’ he joked softly and Kanako laughed, nodding.

‘Don’t worry, I will be back to being a nightmare by the next time we meet,’ she promised brightly, giving his hair an affectionate ruffle before disappearing off on her mission.

 

When Yuzuru turned back to Shoma he offered him another small smile, reaching up to lightly brush the faint hint of tears from the corners of his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. Shoma noticed, dimly, that he was wearing what must have been an older version of the Foundation’s standard-issue jackets, the font slightly different and the material rubbed thin and shiny at the elbows. He let his eyes flutter closed and gratefully took in the faint scent of bergamot and jasmine as the soft fabric brushed against his skin. ‘Sho, it felt like you were drowning or something – you scared me. And not just this morning either,’ he said, still hushed and gentle despite the fact that everyone but Satoko had politely drifted away. ‘I’m sorry Javi did that; I didn’t ask him to, and he doesn’t speak for me, ok?’ Shoma managed a nod and Yuzuru dropped his hand to Shoma’s arm, squeezing it softly, his other hand using Shoma’s knee so that he could balance a little better. ‘Just breathe in deep and blow it out. And then it’s like a wish, remember? But a wish turned inwards this time. Focus only on your own heart beating; it will calm your power down and focus it only on what you need from it, you and no one else,’ he said kindly, waiting for a beat before giving Shoma’s knee a small, caring little pat. ‘You’re ok,’ he whispered, and Shoma’s breath caught at the familiar sound. Yuzuru grazed a knuckle feather-light against his cheek, drying a rogue tear. ‘You’re ok,’ he repeated again. And Shoma almost wanted to laugh, because Itsuki had been right: if this was an act, it was a dedicated one.

 

Yuzuru stayed with him until Mihoko appeared, at which point he melted away without a word, probably off to smooth things over with Brian, given that he had essentially taken the liberty of reorganising the personnel for lectures without warning simply for the sake of doing a friend a favour. _A friend a favour._ Shoma turned that idea over in his head as he sat on the squashy sofa in the mentors’ lounge, looking out over the sea, his sweater paws wrapped around the pleasing warmth of a hot chocolate from the fancy machine in the corner. He’d forgotten his own rules; he hadn’t judged Yuzuru on his own actions, but on the words of others, and even when Itsuki had subtly tried to call him out on it he had still let his head get the better of him. Javier was right to be angry with him: he’d let the noise in. The problem was, he wasn’t entirely sure he could shut it back out again.

 

He took a sip of the hot chocolate, glancing up as Mihoko came back in the room and offered him a warm, gentle smile that should’ve felt pitying but strangely just felt safe and warm instead.

‘Feeling better?’ she asked brightly. Shoma managed a small nod and she nodded back, pleased. ‘Good. Kanako only really told me Yuzuru had sent her to find me for you, so I just went to talk to him to clear things up,’ Mihoko said, sitting down in the chair across from him and leaning forward to meet his gaze, her eyebrows raised expectantly. Shoma curled in a little bit, looking back down into his hot chocolate and biting at his lip once more. ‘He told me you haven’t been feeling well.’ Shoma nodded vaguely.

‘Is that all he said?’ he asked quietly, looking up at her through his fringe. Mihoko nodded slowly, tucking her hair behind her ears and offering him a sweet smile.

‘More or less. He might also have mentioned that sometimes it takes a lot out of you to keep your power reined in once something has trigged it inside you – he thought maybe that wasn’t the best thing for you when you were ill and that maybe you weren’t ready to be around so many people, since your defences may still be a little weak from feeling sick.’ Her eyes sparkled, bright, knowing and infinitely kind, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly back at her, swallowing down the lump in his throat and offering another small nod. ‘He was very worried about you. I think he would’ve stayed with you himself, but he said perhaps someone of his power wasn’t good for you right now. I think he thinks very much of you, Shoma. I don’t know him well, but I know compassion when I see it. And he is not someone who is good at hiding the emotion from his eyes.’ Shoma’s lips twitched up at one corner in a fond, lopsided smile which he couldn’t quite bring himself to smother, and he quickly looked away, hoping Mihoko hadn’t caught the expression on his face. ‘I won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about, Shoma. But you know, I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t at least ask you this: have you and Yuzuru perhaps been fighting? Or not talking maybe?’ Shoma sucked at his lip, staring determinedly out at the waves.

‘I wasn’t talking to him. But I didn’t tell him why,’ he murmured. He could see Mihoko nodding patiently out of the corner of his eye and he risked a glance over at her.

‘Maybe he deserves to know what he did wrong, do you think?’ Mihoko suggested, her smile caring, if a little amused, and Shoma felt himself blushing slightly under her knowing gaze. ‘Your head might feel a little clearer for it; maybe you might find you weren’t so unwell after all, you were simply missing your friend.’ Shoma managed a soft, huffy laugh, looking away again, and Mihoko shrugged. ‘When you mentioned at our last appointment that the two of you were friends, you seemed grateful for that, but perhaps not sure enough of yourself to know what to make of it – I think maybe this would be a good moment to assess that, perhaps? I may not know what he did, or why it hurt you so much – but I can see it did hurt you, and that you are still not sure you are ready to forgive. I think whatever caused this rift between you, you should not take for granted that when it mattered he was still there for you, though. We make many friends in life, Shoma. Some, when we turn to them, will come to us with advice or stories or great, wild plans. Others may try to tell us there are cures and solutions we are overlooking. Some may even try to dismiss what we feel or impose upon us their own emotions. But sometimes, if we are lucky, we will find a friend who is willing to accept that we see no answers, and that we don’t want them yet, even if they are there. Those friends who will dare to touch a hand of fearless acknowledgement to your wounds, and sit silently with you in the dark, without once suggesting it is not so bad as it seems – those people who say to you that you are ok to not be ok and do not need you to be until you eventually are – they are the ones whose care for you is truly unconditional. They are the ones we give chances to, and make allowances for; because they are the ones who have already shown you there is no cruelty or demand in them, that there is no part of you which they fear or wish to turn away from. They have shown a belief in all that you are which earns them the right to be treated just the same.’

 

The rest of the day seemed to pass painfully slowly to Shoma; he fought to be respectful and pay attention as Mihoko made light, gentle conversation with him before leaving to give her afternoon lecture, but the moment she had disappeared out of the door he had sagged bodily backwards against the cushions and let out a breath he felt he’d been holding ever since Javier had appeared in the courtyard that morning. He had fallen asleep at some point, and when he woke up there were messages piling up on his phone; Itsuki pestering, Satoko worrying, Keiji prodding, Nathan strangely knowing and Boyang off on a tangent…Yuzuru, noticeably absent. He decided Keiji was his safest bet and met him for food and games and conversation that Keiji kindly kept aimless and light and un-probing. It helped Shoma to feel more like himself again, though the time still seemed to drag a little more slowly than he would’ve liked. It was something of a relief when the time came to call it a night and head for their rooms.

 

Some sulky, stubborn part of Shoma’s character made him go to bed and lie there for an hour, pretending he was invested in the idea of sleep. But he knew, deep down, once midnight came he would get up again. He knew he would follow the painfully-familiar path: take the lift down, cross the courtyard in hazy zigzags and duck beneath the branches of the trees, push on the gate and half-jump down the stone steps into the shadows, further and further through the darkness until butterflies and petals and magic began to permeate the air. It felt like a map, tattooed over his skin, etched into him forever whether he wanted it to be there or not – in the end he did it without even thinking, hardly even bothering to look where he was going.

 

The air in the garden was cool and still that night, the sky fixed into an eerily pale dusk that was smudged at its edges, desperately trying to keep itself from turning into a midnight rainstorm. It was a sky Shoma couldn’t judge – the first time he hadn’t understood what Yuzuru’s magic was trying to convey since the moment they’d met – and he stopped at the top of the pathway for longer than usual, squinting up at the pencil-sketch outline of it with unease. A small, pure black butterfly flittered past him, pausing briefly in front of his face like it was trying to work out why he wasn’t half-running down the path with a smile on his face the way he usually would; it danced an agitated circle around his head before pointedly moving off towards the water, its movements purposeful and sure. Shoma watched it go, watched the way it skipped and fluttered its way over the bridge and off towards the trees until he could no longer make it out. He knew where it had landed all the same; beside the slight, curled-in figure sitting alone beneath the furthest cherry tree, gazing downwards intently and holding himself unnaturally still. Shoma tried to push down the knot in his chest and squared his shoulders, moving off along the path with his head down, eyes fixed determinedly on nothing but the ground in front of him as he tried to get his thoughts in order before he needed to speak any of them out loud.

 

When he reached him, for a moment Shoma forgot himself; he stared at him like he was seeing him for the first time all over again, strangely startled by how delicate he was, how powerful he was, how much emotion lay behind his glittery-dark eyes. He took in a shaky breath and opened his mouth, but no words came out and he blew the breath out again, twisting his hands together and looking upwards in the hope not meeting Yuzuru’s eyes might release the bands around his chest. But there was never any escaping Yuzuru; he was too much and too bright and too…everything. Shoma was still painfully aware of his piercing gaze, how it remained trained on him, and, knowing there was no stopping the inevitability of it, he slowly looked back towards him. Yuzuru’s expression was closed and quiet, but he rested his chin on his knees with that curious, easy patience of his; he waited, as he always did, for Shoma’s words to come only when Shoma was ready.

 

‘You lied to me.’ Shoma found his own voice to be pitifully small and unconvincing and he winced at the sound of it. Yuzuru’s forehead creased into a faint frown and Shoma huffed out a breath, wringing his hands together more tightly and trying to find the courage to explain his point of view. ‘I heard…I heard Brian talking to Tracy. About you. About me.’ He willed Yuzuru to work it out, to not make him say the words and just confess already. But Yuzuru simply looked up at him, eyes dark and stormy, expression all shadows.

‘So? People talk, Shoma. That doesn’t explain why you didn’t come and tell me something was wrong – you must have known you could just ask me, whether you thought I lied or not. I would’ve come to you if it was the other way around,’ he said, soft and painfully confused. Shoma let out a frustrated breath.

‘I couldn’t face you,’ he admitted, injured and small. ‘I just…why didn’t you tell me you were fighting with Brian because of me?’ He wet his lips, tried to make his voice sound less untested and more sure. ‘You could’ve just told me you didn’t want me on the list, that you didn’t think Brian should be considering me.’ He saw Yuzuru sit up just a little, his back straightening like he was readying a protest, and he twisted his fingers together so tightly it hurt, willing himself to cut off any argument before it could come and determined to try and keep his footing in this fight. ‘If all I’m doing here is filling some part in your big, mysterious puzzle of power, then why couldn’t you just say so instead of pretending to be my friend? So that I could’ve known where I stood instead of feeling like an idiot?’

 

Yuzuru was quiet for a long time; Shoma couldn’t quite unpick all the emotions crossing over his face, but he saw him piecing some of the fragments together somehow, could see him forming a picture in his head of what was driving Shoma’s anger with him.

‘Tell me: how have I pretended anything with you, Shoma?’ Yuzuru let out at last, his voice achingly soft and wounded, something in his posture gentling like someone had let the air out of him. Shoma looked up in an effort not to waver; it twisted his insides into knots to see the pain in Yuzuru’s face, and worse, to feel it, the way his lightening seemed to unravel in a second. Shoma’s heartbeat quickened, some of his earlier panic coming back; he dug his nails into his hand so hard he winced.

‘I don’t know, Yuzu…that was the point. I didn’t know. I still don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out this whole time – but my head’s too full of you to unpick it,’ he admitted. ‘I can’t get it fixed in my mind because…it’s all blurred inside my brain. I can’t remember when I decided I knew you, and I can’t remember when I decided you knew me…it doesn’t even feel like a decision and that’s…I never don’t decide. I care about stuff, I care about stuff all the time that I wish I didn’t care about because I end up caring too much: so I try and choose, I try and decide. But this…this…whatever it is? It was there the moment I saw you, on some level, I think, and…I don’t know why. I don’t know why you bothered with it. I don’t know why I let you. I don’t know…I don’t know what you really think of me if you didn’t see me as a friend; were you just going through the motions because you thought you had to because of my power, were you only interested in seeing how much of my power you could draw out with your secrets? I don’t know how you had the nerve to pretend or how you did it so well. But now it’s all I can think about and it’s poisoning everything to the point where I can’t focus on the good anymore, and I can’t even be sure that there was any.’

 

Shoma’s breathing was a little ragged again, and he couldn’t bring himself to look back at Yuzuru, choosing instead to close his eyes and try to swallow down the sudden intensity of his feelings. He couldn’t find a path through his own thoughts, and he wasn’t sure the ones which had made it out were the right ones anyway. Yuzuru had gone agonizingly quiet, but Shoma could feel his eyes still on him, could feel the sadness of the gaze without needing to meet it. He took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t mean that,’ he let out softly, almost a whimper, the words half-stuck at the back of his throat. ‘Not all of it. Not that way. I know there is good in you, I know there was good somewhere. But the good confuses me more than the lies do. Because I don’t know if what I saw in it was really there or if it was some kind of illusion that meant something different than I realised. I don’t even understand why it was there; I don’t know how, I don’t know when. I don’t…I just… _I don’t_.’ He swallowed and opened his eyes, blinking a little as the light came back in and cautiously looking over at Yuzuru, whose dark gaze was more gentle than he had expected. ‘I didn’t…I’m not…’ Shoma let out a sharp, frustrated sound and brought his hands up to his face, remembering why it was he preferred listening to talking. ‘I don’t know what more to tell you. I don’t know how to put into words what I feel because I’m not used to having to – especially not with you.’

 

Yuzuru got to his feet, slow and careful as he came over to where Shoma stood; Shoma heard him, could feel him, but he still couldn’t risk looking him in the eye. His power was there again, reaching and tentative – Shoma let it close around him, let it find whatever it was looking for in his energy in the hope it might be able to draw out the answers he still hadn’t managed to bring to the surface for himself. And then he felt Yuzuru’s elegant fingers wrapping firmly around his wrists; Shoma’s breath caught as Yuzuru lowered his hands with deliberate gentleness, holding them between them as he cast his searching gaze over Shoma’s sad, lost face, like it was a clue he couldn’t quite fathom.

‘What happened, Shoma? What did you hear?’ he asked simply; there was pain in his voice, but a determined calm in his eyes. When Shoma stared blankly up at him his expression shifted ever so slightly, a lopsided little smile curving at the very corner of his lips, sad and mildly exasperated. ‘Shoma: you don’t have to tell me what is wrong, but you came here, right? So you wanted to at least try to find the words. You must have hoped, in some part of your heart, that I could tell you something you needed to hear. So explain. Start at the beginning, so I know the point at which I became the bad guy in this story. I need to know what started all this to have any hope of giving you answers. I need to know the part before all these other things got inside your head. So breathe. Focus. _And cut to the heart_.’

 

Shoma nodded vaguely and Yuzuru gave his hands a small, encouraging squeeze. ‘Ok?’ he asked. Shoma nodded again.

‘Ok,’ he repeated, scratchy and rough, and Yuzuru nodded back, waiting patiently for Shoma to continue. ‘I was just walking past, I didn’t go looking for it, I swear. But then I heard Brian say my name and I…I listened because they both were saying stuff about you, about things you’d said to them about me that I didn’t think you’d say without telling me you had,’ Shoma managed, quiet and hesitant. ‘Brian was saying you were arguing with him about me – about me going to the summit. He made it sound like you didn’t want me there.’ Yuzuru frowned slightly, shaking his head and absently reaching up to brush a stray tear from Shoma’s cheek with the pad of his thumb.

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘That’s not why we argued. And that’s not how I feel.’ Shoma shrugged lamely and looked down at where Yuzuru’s other hand was still holding one of his own.

‘He didn’t get why it mattered to you either way,’ he mumbled. ‘He thought it was about power, and Tracy said it might be because you _are_ power. They both made it seem like maybe that’s all I was too. To you. To anyone. They acted like that’s the only thing you could ever see in being friends with me.’

‘That is not what either of them think – of me or of you. But even so? Brian and Tracy don’t speak for me any more than Javi does.’ Yuzuru squeezed his hand determinedly. ‘And you know overheard conversations don’t tell you a whole story of a person’s thoughts. I thought you trusted what you were shown, not what came to you from the words of others: when did I show you anything but that I saw you as _Shoma_? Maybe power is a part of that, because power is a part of you. But…I thought we had agreed there was more than that in our time together? I thought we were both tired of being caught up in nothing but power and people’s misunderstandings of us?’ he asked, frighteningly calm. It was the way he was so matter-of-fact that told Shoma how hurt he was: that was the voice from press conferences and news stories, the practiced surety and strength he projected when what he was really feeling was in danger of reducing him to dust. Shoma looked up at him slowly, forehead creasing into a frown.

‘But if the overheard story’s the only story I get, then what choice do I have, Yuzu? I asked you that night, I asked you what was wrong. You could’ve told me…you could’ve been honest. But you weren’t. You chose to keep it back and write it off. You cut me off and kept me out of it – even though it was about me. So I had to overhear it instead. I judged you on your actions just as much as their words; or at least, I judged on the absence of those actions.’

‘But you overheard _what_ , Shoma: you don’t even know what you think you know. You didn’t hear every side of my conversation with Brian – you heard a piece of Brian’s side being retold to someone else.’ Yuzuru shrugged helplessly. ‘I told you Brian and I fought. The only part I left out was that it was about how he makes his decisions. And that _is_ what it was about: not about your going to the summit or my friendship with you. It was about Brian and what I believe in. It was about me not wanting to stand in your way. We weren’t fighting over me wanting you one place or not wanting you in another – you are your own person, and it’s not up to me where you go. What we fought about was whether or not Brian was treating you like you were your own person; whether or not he had noticed you were someone of value in your own right, not only because I see something in you. I wanted him to stop underestimating you, and we fought because I wouldn’t give him an answer one way or another about whether he should put you on the list. I wasn’t going to take the choice away from you, about if you gave up your time and your peace and your anonymity, whether or not you were willing to test your power outside the safe space of the Foundation. I was adamant you should be the first person who got a say in this because you need it more than most, because I know how much you need to see your own way forward clearly before you take it, and that you need time to prepare yourself for change. I care about you keeping that control – fiercely, because that’s how I care about you. But he couldn’t understand why and I couldn’t say it without betraying the secrets we have made.’

‘Huh?’

‘Shoma: the Japanese ministry put your name forward as a possibility. Brian came to me because Tracy and Javi told him we were friends, to see if I thought you could handle it because he wasn’t sure you were the right choice. I told him you are more than worthy of a place, but that you shouldn’t be forced to go by your name just suddenly appearing on the list. I told him he should ask you if you wanted to go or not and he told me that’s not how he does things, in case everyone starts thinking they can negotiate. I lost my temper because he was being so stubborn over something which should have been so simple; I lost my temper because you matter too much to me and I couldn’t give him the right words to explain who you are, why it is you _should_ be the exception to his rules, to every rule – why you are special in every sense of the word, and not because of power alone.’

 

Shoma stared at Yuzuru for a moment, his eyebrows still knitted together and his lips parted slightly. Yuzuru’s eyes were all heartbreak and frustration and Shoma’s throat felt dry. Yuzuru’s fingers briefly danced across the furrow in his brow, pressing just hard enough to smooth it out. ‘I told Brian I couldn’t influence his decision because it wouldn’t be fair on you. And I practically threw a fit when he said he wasn’t even going to tell you that you had been considered. He was taking your choice away from you and dismissing the strength in you all at once; it was too much and I felt too much and it all hit at once. I worried him because I haven’t done that in a long time, not since he tried to stop me going back to my hometown. Because no matter how many times I tell him, he still forgets that I don’t get a choice, Shoma. I go or all hell breaks loose: the Japanese government make Brian’s job impossible, the media print lies about me and about this place, and every government and organisation the world over starts asking questions, speculating on the Foundation’s future or my integrity or Brian’s methods. It makes for a giant mess. But you? They know nothing of you yet; your strength is still a secret, even to yourself sometimes, never mind the world outside. And you can still have a choice how best to keep a hold of that strength, you can still decide for yourself what will best help you draw out that strength and how you wish to use it. I wasn’t going to be the one who stood by and let that be taken away from you; I know how overwhelming that can be and I know there is no undoing it once it is done.’

‘But you did take my choices away from me, Yuzu! You didn’t _tell_ me any of this when I asked! You weren’t honest with me!’

‘When wasn’t I honest? When I said me and Brian fought? When I told you I didn’t want to talk about it? Which part was a lie?’

‘It wasn’t the truth though – it concerned me, directly, and you didn’t just tell me and spare all this misunderstanding. It was a lie of omission.’

‘Because there is no way for me to hide from you, Shoma; if I tell you one piece of something, I will tell you everything! I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye and pretend I had no opinion, that your decision wasn’t important to me: that truly would be a lie and I couldn’t disguise it. I didn’t want to risk influencing your choice like that. I wanted Brian to go to you, and you to know that whatever you decided was what you wanted, no one else. And maybe I was selfish: because I want you there, so badly, and that’s a truth I haven’t told anybody but you – no matter how much Tracy tried to get me to admit it, I wouldn’t. Because as ridiculous as it sounds? I will miss you, like I have never missed anything else – because I can find it in me to miss you even in the smallest spaces of time, never mind across thousands of miles. But I also know I will hate myself if you go simply for my sake and you are miserable because of it, if it is something you hate and blame me for putting you through. I thought all these things, and I didn’t explain them to you because I thought that you needed a clear head, in case Brian did come to you after all. I was quiet and tired and sad. I didn’t want to feel so heavy any longer – and around you? I never usually do. I didn’t want to ruin that. So I told you the truth but not the detail, and I felt better for your company and it all drifted out of my mind.’ Yuzuru drew in a deep breath; Shoma heard the faint tremor in his breathing and he realised he was trying not to cry. ‘Brian kept asking me why. And all I could say without it all pouring out was that you are important to me. And you are. Not because I think you are some answer to a problem, or some special power I can play with. But because of who you are. You are Shoma. You are Shoma, and that is important to me. You can’t say I have hidden that, right? Because I make no secret of it from anyone, least of all you. I tell you whenever I can because I wish you would believe it more than you do. _You are Shoma_ ; like it is a verb and a noun and an adjective all at once, a state of being that is beautiful, infinite and unique. You are Shoma. And that is something precious.’

 

For a moment all they could do was look at each other, both desperate and hopeful and devastated. The garden’s breeze picked up around them, rustling the leaves on the trees the same way Yuzuru’s words whistled around inside Shoma’s ribcage. It was raining, just a little – Shoma’s hair was sticking to his forehead and Yuzuru’s cheeks were damp. Shoma shivered. He could feel the troubled roll of the waves of Yuzuru’s energy, every bit as tumultuous as his own inner world was in that moment; all currents pulling in every direction, no one emotion able to win out in the confusion. Yuzuru’s hand in his was an anchor more welcome than he wanted to admit; the reassuring weight stopping him from simply getting washed away by the roaring inside his own head. Yuzuru offered him a broken smile, lifting his shoulders in a helpless shrug. ‘Maybe I should’ve told you. Maybe I should’ve let Brian take your name off the list and walked away like it had never happened. Maybe I should’ve said I won’t go at all and run off to hide – finally made the most of all the attention and the pressure by actually getting something out of it for me for once. I could’ve thrown my weight around and had us both stay here, pretending the world has no need for our time or our power or our presence. Maybe all these things would’ve been simpler. But if you don’t trust me, then it wouldn’t change anything, right? We would still end up standing here one day. Fighting over something. Just two people with powers and secrets and nothing else. My stories were a bargaining chip and my time was a tool, apparently. We never laughed. We never ruined each other’s coursework or lay out on the grass counting stars. We never fell asleep before we meant to or made chains of flowers to float out across the pond. There were no whispers behind hands in lectures, accidental stops of time. No stolen jackets or bruised shins. Because we didn’t throw ourselves into a gamble, in your eyes. We just negotiated; like governments around the summit table, I guess, talking about things we neither cared for nor understood.’

 

Shoma felt like the air was being sucked out of him, felt like his legs might not hold him up. He looked up at Yuzuru’s glassy eyes and he felt tears of his own escaping again no matter how hard he tried to blink them back. Yuzuru smiled at him, messy and devastated, a tiny, sad little thing that didn’t look right on his face and made Shoma’s heart turn over in his chest. ‘You should know that isn’t how I saw it, though. I was too busy learning you; I found things I didn’t know I needed to know until I knew them.’ He reached up, touching a gentle finger to Shoma’s jawline. ‘Like that this is where you blush when you laugh,’ he murmured, before drawing his finger down just a little, his eyes following the path he traced with quiet consideration. ‘But this is where you blush when everything is too much; it creeps all the way up to you cheekbones when you are embarrassed, and gets darker when you’ve come running in from outside.’ He looked back up then, his eyes on Shoma’s lips. ‘I know you bite your lips when you are nervous, right here at this corner when you worry, but you bite the other side when you need to think. You bite the inside of your cheek if you feel overwhelmed. And I know that when you talk about something you are fighting about with your brother, your voice goes back to the whine of a little kid, and that sometimes when you forget yourself in the moment of a story you laugh like it’s a hiccup trapped inside your throat. I know you are strong, until you can’t be any longer – and that you are brave enough to say “No more” when you reach your limit, which is something I have never learned to do. I know you like the sun on your face, but you hate midday in summer, and that you think dusk is some kind of magic spell. I know how hard you find it to sleep and that you are bold enough to face change even though you hate it. And I know the little frown you make when you are listening to your favourite song.’ He shrugged lightly, dropping his hand to Shoma’s neck with a sigh. ‘But these are useless things to know if I don’t know I’m not supposed to – if I don’t realise I am only cataloguing these details so I can use them somehow later, if I don’t write them down to study instead of holding them in my heart because they are all the parts of what make you Shoma. Brilliant, silly, fierce, kind Shoma. _My_ Shoma. My best friend.’

 

Shoma shivered again, but he was sure it wasn’t the rain this time. Yuzuru’s eyes met his and it was like an electric shock; a direct lightning strike down Shoma’s spine. There he was, rattling at the padlock inside Shoma’s chest again; like any storm he had no respect for Shoma’s boarded up windows, where there was even the slightest weakness he would find a way in.

‘Yuzu, I-’ Shoma cut himself off, closing his eyes. ‘I…I do trust you,’ he said, sad and small and raspy. ‘I trusted you even when I was trying to convince myself I didn’t. I doubt and I question but…deep down, I can’t shake that trust I felt the moment we met. I believe in you so much it scares me. Because it’s simple and it shouldn’t be; this thing we’re caught in. This thing that _so_ isn’t about the rest of the world, but still somehow is. This thing that is all ours, but that is always, always going to end up needing to belong to everyone else. Because whatever we say we are – friends or acquaintances or just two people training our powers – together we are tied up in magic and responsibility and things we don’t even understand. And I know you’ve looked that sort of fear in the face for most of your life. But I haven’t. And I don’t know if I can. I’m not you; I’m what chases after you, when the sun comes up the next morning and you don’t need to hold on for dear life just to stand any longer. I’m strong, in a way, maybe, but I can’t withstand the things you can. And…I don’t know if I’m enough. Maybe…maybe it would be easier if I thought you didn’t think I was. But…I know you do.’ He opened his eyes, cautiously lifting his head to look back up into Yuzuru’s face. ‘I don’t know what was worse, Yuzu: the part where I thought you didn’t know me after all, or the part where I realized how well you do.’

‘Sho,’ Yuzuru whispered, gentle and concerned and so sincere it ached. Shoma couldn’t take it, closing his eyes again at the sound and trying to swallow but finding everything inside closed up and dry. He felt raw and vulnerable – but the scariest thing of all was how ok it felt to let Yuzuru see it. Yuzuru’s fingerprints were still all over him: he could feel every point on his skin he had touched. And now his fingers were tracing patterns again, drifting up to Shoma’s power mark and moving purposefully across the faint gold lines as he took hold of his wrist. ‘This is why I didn’t want anyone but you to make the decision, why I fought with Brian. Because I know it is dangerous to be friends with me for someone who is as sensitive as you. I know the toll it takes to always be subject to my storms – but to then take on the world as well? To throw yourself in with me is to take a gamble…to whisper a prayer into the night and then jump.’ Yuzuru shrugged sadly. ‘No one should be forced to leap off a cliff they are not ready for. I won’t tell you what to think or what to feel or what to choose. You know as well as I do there is no clear answer; you have to find a path you can live with, and try not to dwell so much on all the doubts that visit you in the night when you think about the routes you didn’t take.’ Yuzuru squeezed Shoma’s hand. ‘But whatever you decide, I promise it won’t have been for nothing, Shoma. Nothing remembered can be lost simply because the world moved on without it; we carry our stories with us and give them a life beyond the fleeting moments they existed in by remembering how they made us feel. It was shared and it mattered: maybe its edges were sharp, maybe its flower grew thorns – but it was beautiful, and it has left its mark. Whatever you chose to do with it from now on, I will remember. It is etched into my skin in gold; a tattoo of sunbeams. The best sort of memory – and you know how much power there is in those.’ He stepped in close, his hands cupping Shoma’s face tenderly. ‘All I want is you safe and you happy. And you must choose what you think will best allow you to shine; the world needs your light, and I won’t be selfish by trying to steal it. That is what I must do: to truly care for the world, and to truly care for you, I must let you be however you choose, even if you choose to be a curiously known sort of stranger from now on.’

 

Yuzuru leant in, touching his forehead to Shoma’s and taking in a breath, his eyes fluttering closed for the smallest second, as though he were trying to preserve everything about the moment so he could revisit it some day – to comfort himself that, for all he had lost, he had lost it honourably. Shoma wondered if he would conjure this memory one day, reach in and magic away the clouds; some future version of Yuzuru leaning in with deep compassion for their messy, rain-spattered past selves, stretching a hand out across time to try and save them. But no hand came. And instead Yuzuru shifted away from him, silently stepping back and turning to walk away, giving Shoma’s fingers one final squeeze. He brushed against Shoma’s shoulder slightly as he moved off, and Shoma let his hand drift back with him for a moment, allowing their fingers slide apart painfully slowly and leaving his arm outstretched for a second longer than he needed to. Shoma’s cheeks felt cold without Yuzuru’s hands there. He realised he missed him powerfully enough that it quietened every other sound inside his head.

 

It was almost three in the morning by the time Shoma gave up on pretending, after lying in his bed for far too long trying uselessly to chase after sleep without the sound of thunder in his ears. He had grown too used to that lullaby – it wasn’t a whim or a craving, it was a quietly desperate need. There was something almost inevitable about ending up in front of Yuzuru’s door, knocking hesitantly and shivering in the cool air of the corridor. Except it also wasn’t, because Shoma knew it was his choice. It was only inevitable because he had decided he wanted it to be. He believed Yuzuru. And when he looked in his eyes he knew Yuzuru believed in him. It was terrifying, but the thought of losing the feeling of his lightning forever was more terrifying still.

 

For a moment, as he shifted from foot to foot in the quiet, he wondered if Yuzuru would even answer the door, if he was actually there or if he’d finally disappeared off on the breeze like the unreal thing he was, fluttering out into the night like one of his butterflies. And then he heard the click of the latch. It was somehow startling, because it was confirmation that, no matter what happened between them, they always seemed to find themselves drifting back to this moment; Shoma realised that, around them, there was always the constant unclicking of every latch. The door opened just a fraction at first, and Shoma suddenly felt the full weight of his exhaustion start to creep up on him – it was an effort to stand, an effort not to just curl up right there and hope Yuzuru would simply sit with him out in the hallway, just as he had that morning in the courtyard.

 

The fuzzy light from the corridor carved Yuzuru’s soft face out of shadows, catching on his dark eyes and making them twinkle; he looked glorious and messy in the half-light, his skin pillow-creased and his hair tangled, a far cry from the person from the newspaper front pages. When Shoma just stood there, he opened the door a little wider, looking at him like he wanted to pull him in and wrap him up but he didn’t think he was allowed. Shoma would happily have collapsed into him and let his head come to rest over the familiar sound of his heartbeat; Yuzuru would catch him, he was sure. It was so tempting to give in to the urge of that total, wordless surrender; but Yuzuru had been patient enough in waiting for his words tonight.

‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Shoma managed helplessly, his voice coming out in a croaky whisper, and Yuzuru’s pale lips curved up into a soft, understanding smile, his eyes almost amused.

‘Ok,’ he said simply, and he inclined his head ever so slightly, the gentlest invitation – like it was just any other night and their earlier conversation had never happened. ‘Come in, Shoma; it’s cold out here.’ He stepped back, holding the door open for Shoma, and Shoma slipped through quickly, like the chance might never come around again. He heard the dull thud of Yuzuru closing the door behind him and he glanced over as he turned, hoping Yuzuru could make out some trace of something in his eyes. He wanted him to take his hand and lead the way – it was his choice to have no choice, at least for tonight, and hoped Yuzuru sensed it, recognised that all he was asking was to be coddled and pulled and held close, to be given back their usual easy, night-time peace. To bask in how safe and whole and clear-headed he made him feel.

 

‘Shoma, you’re freezing,’ Yuzuru said, hushed and unassuming as he took a step closer to him, his hands briefly rubbing at the goosebumps on his arms. He took a moment to look into Shoma’s face, concern and affection somewhere in his expression before he let out a small, fondly despairing sigh. ‘Come on,’ he said, taking hold of Shoma’s hand. He had seen everything in Shoma’s eyes – he would take charge, if Shoma needed. He led him over towards the bed and Shoma followed unquestioningly, eyelids heavy as he leant instinctively towards his warmth, overwhelmed in a good way, overcome with gratitude and a deep, all-encompassing calm.

 

Shoma took in the shadows cast by the stars outside as he finally – somewhat vaguely – processed the fact he was in Yuzuru’s room for the first time; unchartered territory that felt strangely familiar, because it was laid out exactly as his own room was and everything in it was stacked and folded the same way the things in Shoma’s room always were after Yuzuru returned him to his own bed following another too-late night in the garden. And then, of course, there was the radiating feeling of Yuzuru’s presence in the air – something Shoma knew all too well. As Yuzuru let go of his hand to shift the rumpled covers and slide one pillow out from beneath the other to make room in the bed, Shoma caught the faint waft of bergamot; just like that the last of the locks holding the bands around his chest in place clicked free and fell away. Everything was suddenly simple again. Easy.

 

Yuzuru climbed into the bed and held the covers back invitingly, and Shoma crawled gratefully into the warmth of his open arm, closing his eyes with a rush of relief as Yuzuru folded the fabric over him and pulled him close. ‘Try and clear your head as best you can. Sleep will come,’ Yuzuru murmured, lifting his head briefly and tracing the curve of Shoma’s ear with his finger, tucking a strand of hair behind it before putting his arm around him and settling back against the pillows. Shoma nodded vaguely, pressing his spine into the pleasing, protective concave of Yuzuru’s chest and shuddering pleasantly at the tickle of his breath on the back of his neck.

 

They were both quiet for a long time. Shoma felt Yuzuru’s muscles untensing, felt his own limbs growing heavier, but he knew they were both still awake; he could sense it, like little gold Catherine-wheels fizzing beneath the blanket of half-light the room was cast in. Shoma opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the shadows and glancing behind him. Outside the stars winked and shimmered – different to Yuzuru’s conjured sky and made hazy by the remnants of raindrops on the window. Yuzuru’s room was on the very top floor, so high even the birds were mere specks below and the whole world of the Foundation looked like it might simply be a dream, all unreal glimmer and oil-dark glass. Yuzuru’s face was lit by patches of hazy colour; his eyes were closed and his expression soft and unguarded, his lips slightly parted, glistening a little where he had been biting at one corner. Usually he was a wild, fidgeting current, but in that moment he could’ve been a painting, still and pretty and ethereal. Reds and purples and pinks and greens all danced across his warm skin, slivers of gold and late-night blue touching his edges. His dark lashes were fanned out against the shadows beneath his eyes, and his cheek was squashed ungracefully against his pillow, pushing half his features into a gentle, childish frown. This was _his_ Yuzuru; the one no one else saw or knew but Shoma felt he belonged with in every cell in his body, and whose sighs he understood like they were his own. It didn’t matter, in that moment, if it was fate that introduced them, happenstance that made them fit; they did fit, and Shoma liked it, wanted to choose it because it made him happy, regardless of whatever trick of the universe had given him the opportunity to know it in the first place. The beginning was chance, but the rest of the story could still be his to determine.

 

Shoma turned over and Yuzuru’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Shoma’s immediately; he shifted his arm underneath the pillow and Shoma mirrored him, both of them staring intently across the small distance between them with a strange calm, suddenly aware of the simplicity of things now they had allowed themselves the time to be nothing more than what they were, quiet and complete. Yuzuru reached up between them to brush some of the tangled waves of Shoma’s fringe out of his eyes and Shoma felt a small smile twitch at his lips, sleepy and fragile but from the heart.

‘I’m sorry,’ Shoma said, soft and hushed into the silence, and Yuzuru smiled back at him faintly.

‘I’m sorry too,’ he replied in a low ache of a whisper. Shoma shook his head as best he could, scrunching up his face and nuzzling a little closer to Yuzuru, closing his eyes.

‘No. Don’t be.’ He took a deep breath, looking back up into Yuzuru’s face with a one-shouldered shrug. ‘I made assumptions and I didn’t give you the chance to knock them down, because I was too busy hiding inside my own head instead of going to the one person who could clear everything up in a moment. It’s just…it’s the way I’ve always done things. I centre down when things get too much – I put up walls to absorb the shock and I shut the doors and turn out the lights and wait. I hide and hold my breath until I think I can stand again. And…there’s never been anyone who would be able to sense that before…so I just…I didn’t think.’ His mouth twisted to one side in a ghost of a smile, shy and faintly embarrassed. ‘I feel too much as it is, but around you…around you everything is magnified. I feel it and then you feel it too, and I think maybe I feel it second hand, coming back right at me on top of everything. We’re wrapped too tightly around each other; there’s this knot of threads and I can’t trace which ones go back to you and which ones come back to me. I thought maybe if everything unravelled then it might unravel me too.’ Shoma swallowed hard. ‘Maybe it still will. But I don’t think I really mind it. Sometimes when you pull on the strands of a tangle, the ties only get tighter. The knot gets stronger; pulling everything in until it’s one whole thing. I don’t know if that is how this will end, but I’m not scared to pull harder and see.’ Yuzuru let out a soft sound, part hum and part sigh, and he reached out, brushing the pad of his thumb along the shadows beneath Shoma’s eyes and across his cheekbone. Shoma’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips twitching up at one corner. ‘Mm, don’t or I’ll fall asleep – I can feel your healing power in it and it’s way too soothing, I might not wake up for year,’ he admitted in a low voice. Yuzuru let out a small, soft laugh, but his fingers stilled and Shoma sighed. ‘I feel safe when you’re here. Like there’s a pattern in the threads I actually understand and it doesn’t matter who was responsible for which strand because it’s all just serving its purpose.’

‘A spider’s web of silence and stories,’ Yuzuru said quietly, understanding, and Shoma opened his eyes, looking back at him with a wry smile.

‘Or a matted mess of ribbons and secrets and wasted time.’ Yuzuru hummed again, giving a small, almost mischievous nod.

‘Pretty and complicated,’ he said, with a sort of decisiveness that made everything seem strangely sure and settled in Shoma’s head. Yuzuru’s face scrunched up then, eyes briefly dancing. ‘But where is there wasted time when I’m with you?’ Shoma let out a soft laugh.

‘It’s everywhere,’ he insisted, before glancing down with a shy shrug. ‘I like it. It’s like a lazy Saturday morning all the time; it’s not really wasted, when you’re lying in that patch of sunlight talking about nothing and taking a moment to close your eyes. It makes you happy and safe. It reminds you that you’re alive and that, even though sometimes that’s complicated…it also isn’t complicated at all.’

 

Yuzuru considered him for a moment; his smile was a curious dusty pink in the shadows, gentle and only just curving up at one corner, the force of it all in his glinting eyes – the smile he usually reserved for when he turned one of the infinite number of possibilities that lived inside him into a lightning bolt he knew would hit its target. It was a smile that terrified some people, but to Shoma it was like being told the wish you’d made on a star one dark night a long time ago was definitely going to come true.

‘I know confidences and silences and dreams can all be broken – just as easily as skin and bone. People, promises, even powers; there are always cracks and bruises in them, that’s how we can be certain that, even when they seem impossible, they are definitely real. It’s their flaw but also their beauty, I think.’ Yuzuru looked searchingly at Shoma, willing him to catch on to what he was thinking. Shoma’s eyes shone – dark and knowing – and he let out the smallest of laughs, rolling his eyes.

‘You want to make a promise? Those are dangerous things, Yuzu. And like you said: they can break,’ he said, almost a whine, but Yuzuru’s smile only widened.

‘Not this promise,’ he replied, confident and bright, and Shoma’s smile softened as he shook his head slightly against the pillow. He was too tired to try and resist Yuzuru’s force and Yuzuru knew it. ‘I dare you,’ Yuzuru added, low and teasing, and Shoma laughed again.

‘You’re ridiculous.’

‘Still?’

‘More than ever,’ Shoma smirked, soft and fond, before rolling his eyes. ‘What promise?’ he asked. Yuzuru’s expression gentled and he held out his little finger to Shoma; he was all intensity and sincerity again, and Shoma could feel the crisp crackle of his energy starting to trace patterns along his skin the same way his fingers had before. The whole world seemed quiet and still in that moment, and Shoma could almost imagine that he could feel the Earth turning round beneath them.

‘From now on, we are always honest with each other. Even if we’re fighting, even if it hurts, even if we’re lost or scared or distracted, even broken – even if we don’t want to say what we have to say. We are honest with each other, no matter the dangers of it. No lies, but no half-truths either.’ Shoma took a shuddering breath at that; something full and certain seeping into his chest. He nodded slowly, moving his hand to link their fingers, but to his surprise Yuzuru twisted backwards just a little, pulling his hand slightly out of reach from Shoma’s and lifting one eyebrow, almost playful. ‘I want one more promise,’ he said, looking somehow serious and mischievous all at once. ‘No matter what happens: if we haven’t spoken for months or if we’re halfway through a conversation, if we’re on two opposite ends of the world for five minutes or five years, if we’re fighting or if we simply aren’t so close any more, if we’re off doing whatever it is we might do away from this place or if we’re sitting side by side at midnight, or any other possible scenario that could ever exist in the spaces between – when I reach out, I will always find you, if you are there to be found. And I will promise the same to you too. If one of us ever needs the other to reach back, we will be there. No meaning or strings or expectations; just “I’m safe” and nothing more. We can always send up a flare if we need to – but we can never be scared for no reason. Promise?’ Shoma’s smile widened just a little and he nodded.

‘I promise. To all of it,’ he agreed in a hushed, determined voice, and Yuzuru smiled back at him, gentle and fond, reaching across and hooking their fingers together with a slight nod.

 

As their hands fell back against the pillows, Shoma let out an exhausted sigh, closing his eyes and tucking himself a little further down under the safety of the sheets. Yuzuru let out a playful huff, giving Shoma’s shoulder a small, teasing prod and pulling a face at him when he opened one eye. ‘If you’re going to fall asleep now then I’m going to need you to budge over,’ he smirked, and Shoma grumbled lightly, pulling a face at him.

‘Why: I’m comfy,’ he whined. ‘What, do you kick in your sleep or something?’ Yuzuru laughed at him, brushing his finger along the line of Shoma’s neck to tickle him and laughing a little harder when he squirmed.

‘I don’t kick,’ he chided softly. ‘But you nudge and burrow when you’re sleepy; you’re like a very determined little koala bear, and if you’re sleeping here? Then I’m going to need to make sure I won’t be nudged right off the edge of the bed.’ Shoma huffed and smothered a laugh.

‘It’s not my fault you’re so warm and cosy,’ he mumbled, elbowing Yuzuru slightly by way of a retort before shifting his weight back a little bit. ‘There,’ he said, closing his eyes again. ‘You’re such a nuisance.’

‘Says the one shivering at my door at three in the morning because he couldn’t sleep,’ Yuzuru laughed fondly, and Shoma opened one eye again, sticking his tongue out at him. Yuzuru shot him a soft grin before turning back over, pulling the covers up around them both like a guard against the world. ‘Go to sleep, Trouble,’ he sighed happily. Shoma closed his eyes with a delighted smile of his own, fitting himself against Yuzuru’s back contentedly and enjoying the feeling of his ribs expanding and contracting against his own.

 

After a few moments of quiet had elapsed, Shoma shifted again, digging against Yuzuru’s back ever so slightly. ‘Yuzu,’ he murmured against his shoulder blade, and Yuzuru made a sleepy, enquiring sound that was half-muffled by his pillow. ‘If you told Brian you wanted me on the list, would he do it?’ Yuzuru shifted just a little; Shoma could feel him glancing back at him curiously, though he didn’t open his eyes to look.

‘I don’t know, Shoma. He would ask Tracy, and she would argue for you, I’m sure. But only he could make the final call.’ Yuzuru paused, moving his arm back just enough for it to bump gently against Shoma’s side. ‘I could go over his head though: the Japanese ministry will let me have whatever I want if I threaten not to go otherwise, and there are a lot of people who play a part in these decisions who owe me favours. I could hold them to ransom if I chose. And for you? I would fight them all.’ Shoma hummed, small and thoughtful and sleepy. He considered it for a moment; he could feel Yuzuru watching him and he didn’t mind – he knew Yuzuru needed to see the sureness on his face when he made this decision.

‘I hope you don’t have to,’ he sighed into the quiet at last, and for a moment Yuzuru was silent and still. Then Shoma felt his arm shift again, this time reaching back to lie over Shoma’s own. He intertwined their fingers, pulling Shoma’s arm back to wrap around him so their joined hands were tucked protectively against his chest. Shoma could feel his heart beating.

‘You’re sure?’ Yuzuru whispered, small and painfully hopeful. Shoma nodded against his back.

‘You’re like home to me. I miss home enough already; I don’t want to be here with you gone.’ He felt Yuzuru’s breath stutter and he smiled slightly, nudging him again. ‘Besides, if you go and I stay, you might ask for your jacket back…and I’m not sure that’s a price I’m willing to pay.’ Yuzuru let out a soft laugh that buzzed over Shoma’s skin so pleasantly he sighed into it, pushing his face against him and curling in a little tighter, letting the happiness rush in.

‘Then I will fight them all just so you don’t freeze, Shoma,’ Yuzuru replied, quiet and amused, and he squeezed Shoma’s hand tightly. He swallowed then, pushing back just a little against Shoma’s chest and sighing, deep and content. ‘It wouldn’t have made a difference to me, Sho. If you had made a different choice. You should know that. I would have missed you, but I would not have thought of you any differently. You must never imagine we are far, because you will always be close, to me. The sun is the reason the moon shines, right? Even though they are a great distance away, and sometimes the Earth comes between them. So you should never doubt: that’s how close I hold you. And I always will, whatever path you end up taking and whatever story you choose to write.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading, thank you for joining me on this adventure to see if Yuzuru and Shoma will stick to the script (for the record: they mostly didn’t and I let them get away with it) and thank you all for being the sweetest. Oh, and one final thing! I might take a bit longer with the next chapter because I'm in the middle of a busy time on top of which, by some miracle, I’m going to the GP in Helsinki, so I’m gonna be distracted for a while! I hope I can bring more to you as soon as possible but I’m going to apologize in advance just in case. Have I mentioned thank you for reading and putting up with me? Because, yeah, thank you for reading and putting up with me!! If you would like to keep tabs on how the writing thing is going during this potential wilderness time, my Twitter is @malinda_29 & I do occasionally let spoilers slip during writer-rants, so feel free to follow if that will help sustain you until the next chapter finally puts in an appearance! If not, I will see you all on the other side of Helsinki! Love and thanks to you all for making it through my ridiculous word count x


	5. The Sound Of Sirens All Around Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Miracles is finally back for more!! As you can tell, I made it out of Helsinki…dazed and somewhat alive and definitely happy…and then…we all know how things have played out since then so I'm not even going there, because I think we all need a distraction. SO, moving swiftly on! Ok…you wonderful humans told me not to apologise for word count…so I…kind of ran with that sentiment…and just kept running. You’ll er…see what I mean…(I mean…I hit character limit & had to get creative with formatting to keep this thing as one update. so apologies for the spacing changing from previous chapters but that’s technically not an apology for wordcount so we’re good here…) ANYWAY thank you, as always, to all of you leaving comments, kudos, theories, encouragement & all the sweetness, it is only thanks to your kindness, insightfulness and patience that I got through this tricky chapter because it was something of a struggle at times but I REALLY wanted it to be good for you. To those of you from Twitter who reached out when this chapter was overwhelming me: thank you from the bottom of my heart, you are actual angels without whom I would’ve lost my damn mind. For all the trouble it took, I do think this one turned out kinda ok and I really, really hope you all feel that way about it too because you all deserve it.

Shoma announced his arrival downstairs unceremoniously, half-crashing through the door that led out from the lifts to the building’s entryway and attempting to drag his suitcase with him, almost unbalancing as the door banged closed around it, halting it abruptly in its tracks. He jerked backwards, almost overbalancing from the weight of his backpack, and narrowed his eyes accusingly at the door, giving his suitcase one final tug and managing to free it, spinning dramatically out of the motion with a low groan. When he finally let go of the case, all he could do was watch blankly as it fell to the ground with a loud thump that echoed around the space, and for a moment he simply stared at it, as though there was a chance it might just right itself.  
‘Huh…well, that was kind of an impressive entrance, I guess,’ came an annoyingly bright voice from behind him, and Shoma closed his eyes, tipping his head back for a moment.  
‘Before you say anything, consider this as a concept: don’t,’ he grumbled, turning around to see Yuzuru standing there, desperately trying to stifle a laugh.  
‘And a good morning to you too, Starshine,’ Yuzuru beamed, silly and teasing, and Shoma shot him the darkest look he could muster, though it was an effort in the face of his scrunch-faced glee. He looked somehow different, Shoma realised as he took him in, as though he had also put on a persona with his official uniform that morning: his hair was pushed back smartly from his forehead, and his new, dazzlingly white summit jacket had been zipped almost all the way up. Reassuringly, though, the expression on his face was pure, ridiculous, Yuzu, undercutting the air of professionalism and making Shoma smile. Briefly he cast his twinkly eyes over the chaotic state of Shoma’s hair and his haphazardly done-up jacket, tipping his head to one side and looking profoundly fond and faintly despairing at same time. ‘At least you finally finished packing…right?’ he offered, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘No thanks to _someone_ sitting on my bed eating sweets all night,’ he pointed out. Yuzuru laughed, giddy and childish, and Shoma had to force down a small smile.  
‘I needed to study. And anyway, I told you to pack two days ago but you wouldn’t, I told you to make a list but you didn’t – so really, you were beyond my powers, Shoma,’ Yuzuru shrugged. Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Nothing is beyond your powers: you’re _you_ ,’ he whined. Yuzuru pursed his lips, biting back a laugh. ‘How are you even awake right now? You didn’t stop going over your practice questions ‘til _three_ ,’ Shoma sighed, sulkily hauling his case upright again and shooting him a glare. Yuzuru laughed, closing one eye in a wince of pretend concern.  
‘Er, Sho – I don’t know how to tell you this? But you’re kind of awake too. And how would you know when I went back to my room, huh? You were semi-conscious with your face in a pillow. I said “Goodnight, Shoma” and you made a sound like something dying,’ he pointed out. Shoma pulled a face at him, tugging his case to stand next to him and dumping his backpack to rest on top of it with a huff.  
‘You’re so dramatic; I said “Go away”, it just got muffled by the pillow. Besides: you’re wrong. I am a lot of things right now, Yuzu, but awake is not even close to the top of the list.’ Yuzuru shot him a soft, fond look, his eyes sparkling from the laughter he was holding in, and it was an effort for Shoma not to smile.  
‘Maybe this will help,’ Yuzuru offered, voice gentling as he produced something from behind him. Shoma frowned slightly as Yuzuru pushed himself up from the wall and spun on his heel, twisting his body to covertly slip a travel-cup of something warm into his hand, bumping their shoulders together with the movement; Shoma lifted the cup and looked down at it for a beat, before shooting a sidelong glance at Yuzuru, quirking an eyebrow.  
‘Is this-’ Yuzuru cut him off with a quick nod.  
‘Hanyu hot chocolate, just for you – to my mum’s exact recipe, but with twice the sugar. Maybe four times, I lost track,’ he said, nudging Shoma’s arm again, and Shoma widened his eyes for a moment. He looked at the cup once more, smiling, before humming a happy sigh into his first sip, sighing contentedly at the taste of melted marshmallow and chocolate. He licked the residue from his lips with relish before looking slowly back up at Yuzuru.  
‘You win, Hanyu: maybe there’s a chance you’re not completely awful after all. In fact…you might actually be the best person ever.’ Yuzuru shot him a conspiratorial grin.  
‘I mean…it is what people keep telling me, Shoma,’ he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets with a shrug. ‘And they don’t even know how good my hot chocolate is.’ Shoma rolled his eyes, smirking slightly and elbowing him away with a soft laugh.  
‘Urgh, shut up – I can’t even be mad at you right now,’ he protested weakly, and Yuzuru laughed.  
‘I picked up your blazer and your ID stuff too,’ he remarked casually, pulling a couple of lanyards out of his pocket and coming to stand in front of Shoma, who stood placid and uncomplaining as Yuzuru hung one of the lanyards around his neck and straightened it so the photo-pass was facing outwards. ‘I’ll give you your pin when we get on the bus; it’s kind of fiddly,’ he added, his long, dainty fingers gently fussing with Shoma’s collar. Shoma almost blushed, swotting him away lightly.  
‘I’m not eight,’ he groaned, and Yuzuru laughed, delicately arranging his own lanyard around his neck and then tipping his head at Shoma thoughtfully.  
‘No: when you’re sleepy you’re actually five,’ he smiled, widening his eyes teasingly for emphasis and flicking Shoma’s forehead. ‘What would you do without me?’  
‘Sleep for eight whole hours and lose my ID, probably,’ Shoma shrugged, giving Yuzuru a mischievous kick to the shins and laughing when he yelped and kicked back.

‘Hey, did we just witness an illicit, backstreet caffeine deal in the entryway from _the_ Yuzuru Hanyu?’ came a voice from behind them, and Shoma and Yuzuru turned to see Nathan and Boyang ambling towards them from the direction of the opposite doors. ‘Shoma is a bad influence on you, huh?’ Nathan added, nonchalantly mischievous as he glanced at Yuzuru questioningly. He looked almost as much the part as Yuzuru did, his summit jacket crisp, backpack flung casually over one shoulder and case rolling smoothly behind him, but he had his headphones round his neck still and his curls were morning-wild, and Shoma could feel the smallest prickle of nervous tension in his energy, giving him away.  
‘Why do people always assume _I’m_ the bad influence?’ Shoma grumbled, dark eyes glinting as he shot Nathan the most annoyed look he could muster.  
‘I think because they’ve met you, Shoma,’ Boyang suggested with a charming grin, and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him. Nathan was poorly attempting to smother a smirk, and Yuzuru let out an ungracious laugh, throwing his head back before casting Boyang a radiant, conspiratorial smile that made the younger man beam proudly.  
‘You’re all mean and I’m going back to bed,’ Shoma told them dryly, wrapping his sweater paws around the cup and taking another sip.  
‘Shoma!’ Yuzuru protested, happy and playfully whiney. ‘I didn’t get up early and make you my special hot chocolate recipe for you to abandon me now!’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Too late, you already handed over the sugar-content; I can do what I want,’ he shrugged, eyes bright and wicked as he met Yuzuru’s gaze.  
‘Wow, Sho: you’re so lucky! How did you get special hot chocolate from Yuzu?! You’re living the dream!’ Boyang sighed, starry-eyed, and Shoma smirked at him.  
‘It’s really not that hard; he’s like the most stupidly generous person ever. It’s a nightmare, honestly.’ He flicked a small, sly smile Yuzuru’s way and Yuzuru winked back at him.  
‘I’m still jealous; I wish I had super-secret special-recipe hot chocolate and Yuzu bringing me presents all the time. That would be so amazing,’ Boyang said with immense conviction, and Nathan looked over at him with a somewhat bemused smile.  
‘Dude, do you ever filter before you speak or do you just not feel embarrassment?’ he asked with a soft laugh.  
‘Yuzu knows I think he’s the most amazing person ever already – I tell him every time we speak,’ Boyang shrugged, unbothered. Yuzuru smiled, amused, and nodded rapidly.  
‘It’s true. His record is five times in one conversation.’ Nathan laughed. ‘Oh, actually, I think I do have something I could give you guys!’ Yuzuru added suddenly, eyes bright, and he turned to his backpack, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a gift bag and reaching in to produce a little cellophane packet of bitesize brownies tied up with ribbon. He smiled, pleased with himself, and handed one to a deliriously happy Boyang before reaching back in to produce another for the mildly bewildered Nathan. ‘Double chocolate brownies,’ Yuzuru beamed, as though nothing unusual had happened, and Boyang let out another contented sigh, ripping open his packet gleefully.  
‘I think I’m in love,’ he said, playfully dreamy as he shoved one of the little cubes of brownie into his mouth. Nathan laughed, shaking his head at him and giving Yuzuru a small nod.  
‘Thanks, man. You’re pretty cool for someone who kinda doesn’t even need to know we exist,’ he said lightly. Yuzuru pulled a face.  
‘I need to know you exist: I have to keep an eye on the competition, right?’ he joked and Nathan smiled, nodding slowly.  
‘Oh, I see how it is now,’ he smirked. ‘So, what, these are poison brownies?’  
‘I want to beat you fair and square in one of Raf’s Warrior games, actually,’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘The brownies are just because I’m nice,’ he added with an exaggeratedly sweet smile. Shoma smirked.  
‘Sure, he’s nice now, but wait ‘til you’re trying to pack. He turns into a goblin and starts throwing sweets at your head.’  
‘In my defence, I was aiming for your mouth. And I’ve never seen anyone make as disastrous a job of packing as you, Shoma: you took forever and it still ended up in a heap in the middle of your case,’ Yuzuru smiled, unashamed, and Shoma hid a smirk behind his drink.  
‘It was in the case – what more do you want from me? Anyway: don’t change the subject! Since when do you bake?!’ he demanded. Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘I don’t; they’re a present from Shae because I helped her with something for a new lecture she’s working on,’ he explained. ‘She’s always giving me treats and I never have time to eat them all.’  
‘If you’re looking for sympathy on that “problem”, I don’t think you’re talking to the right person,’ Shoma deadpanned, and Yuzuru pulled a face at him, pouting childishly.  
‘Drink your hot chocolate and appreciate me,’ he whined, eyes glittering as he gave a slight stamp of his foot for effect, and Shoma shot him a sly smirk.  
‘Such a baby,’ he muttered, shaking his head but taking a sip of his drink anyway.  
‘Are you guys always this mean to each other?’ Nathan asked, amused. Shoma glanced at Yuzuru, who quirked an eyebrow back at him, pursing his lips to keep down a smile.  
‘Pretty much,’ they said together after a beat, laughing, and Shoma widened his eyes at Yuzuru, who responded by crossing his eyes. Nathan simply shook his head at both of them.  
‘Well ok then,’ he smiled, shrugging. ‘Looks like me and Boyang here need to work on our banter game if we’re going to keep up with you, huh?’ he suggested, elbowing Boyang lightly.  
‘Not happening. Boyang loves everybody too much to keep it going,’ Shoma pointed out.  
‘It’s just that people here are so friendly and fun and interesting, though! It’s amazing! But…you know…if anyone asks: Yuzu is still my favourite,’ Boyang put in around another mouthful of brownie, and Yuzuru laughed at him, offering out a hand for a high five which he accepted with unashamed glee.  
‘I really hope you’re not going to tell me you’re never washing that hand again,’ Nathan grimaced and Boyang pulled a face at him.  
‘Stop mocking me,’ he protested, playfully whiney. ‘Why is it not cool to be enthusiastic? You and Shoma are so moody and aloof – I don’t have time for it.’  
‘Yeah, but if you want me to come get your ID and stuff with you, then you don’t have time to hang around arguing about it either – besides, I would rather get breakfast here than risk airport food,’ Nathan pointed out, and Boyang huffed.  
‘Fine. But if you keep being mean to me then I’m going to run away with Team Japan – they’ve already adopted Javi and Zhenya, I’m sure they can find room for me too,’ he replied with a firm nod. Nathan rolled his eyes.  
‘Hey: you were the one who knocked on my door at four this morning to ask what time the bus was leaving – if anyone should be making threats here it is definitely me.’  
‘Well I didn’t want to be late – and your room is right next door to mine,’ Boyang shrugged. Shoma shuddered.  
‘I’m so glad I’m on a different floor,’ he mumbled, hiding a smirk by taking a sip of his drink when Nathan shot him a playful glare.

Outside the sunlight was cowslip yellow and misty, the air early-cool and fresh on Shoma’s skin; it was still quiet, too early for most of the Foundation’s inhabitants to be up, and – with Nathan and Boyang having headed in the opposite direction to collect their papers – Shoma and Yuzuru were the only two people in the courtyard, the scrape of their cases’ wheels on the ground echoing incongruously loud around the space. Yuzuru knocked his shoulder purposefully into Shoma’s as he fell into step with him, and Shoma looked up at him enquiringly, squinting slightly against the sunlight which framed him.  
‘You know, I didn’t forget about you,’ Yuzuru told him, his smile happy and mischievous, and Shoma frowned at him, blinking.  
‘Huh?’ Yuzuru’s smile widened, and he carefully shifted the two garment bags he was carrying to drape them over his arm, rolling his case ahead of him a little and reaching into his pocket.  
‘What, you think I was going to give away free snacks and not save anything for you?’ he asked, producing something from the pocket and brandishing it at Shoma proudly. Shoma’s eyes widened a little as he realised it was one of the cute, candy-striped paper bags from the little bakery that was tucked away behind the library. ‘Chewy caramel and the really big chocolate chunks – your favourite, right?’ Shoma nodded. ‘I got it when I went to get our ID stuff; first batch of the day, just for you,’ Yuzuru said, laughing when Shoma made a grab for the bag and holding it just out of his reach. ‘Ah-ah-ah! Say “Thank you”, Shoma!’ Yuzuru said lightly, waggling his eyebrows at Shoma in challenge.  
‘Thank you, Shoma,’ Shoma parroted back to him obediently, saccharine and sing-song, his smile innocent but his eyes sly and twinkling. Yuzuru laughed one of his silly, bubbling giggles, trying and failing to shoot Shoma an exasperated glare.  
‘Close enough,’ he sighed, shaking his head fondly and letting Shoma take the bag from him with a slight roll of his eyes. Shoma bumped his shoulder and shot him a small smile.  
‘Thank you,’ he said then, soft and genuine this time, and Yuzuru looked back at him, flashing him a quick wink.  
‘You’re welcome. It’s worth it to get a smile out of you this early in the morning,’ he declared. His expression was teasing, but there was something sweetly genuine in his eyes that made Shoma blush and look down at his feet with a small shake of his head.

Everything was tinged in sleepy shades of gold, and in the peace the babble of the courtyard’s water features seemed to dance in the air; the weather was turning, and by the time they were back in the sanctuary of the Foundation’s high, shimmering walls, the place wouldn’t look the same. It was a curiously sad thought, a small, haunting reminder to Shoma that he was balancing on an edge, about to leap. He glanced over at Yuzuru, taking in the crisp, clean lines of him in the morning sun; patterns of light and shadow danced across his skin through the trees, and in the spaces in between Shoma could just see the lines of him being drawn and redrawn, slowly joining up the person he was with the person he needed to be. Every one of them had responsibilities on this trip, but they were responsibilities they had tacitly agreed to take on when they had accepted their invitation to the Foundation; Yuzuru had responsibilities he had never been given a say in, duties and roles and titles to live up to which he had never asked for, which a lesser person would have long ago crumbled under.  
‘Do you need me to test you again on your press stuff?’ Shoma asked gently, knocking his elbow into Yuzuru’s, and Yuzuru looked over at him with a wide, grateful smile, catching his lip between his teeth.  
‘Would you mind?’ he asked, eyebrows raised hopefully, and Shoma flashed him a soft smile, shaking his head dismissively. He’d secretly enjoyed his and Yuzuru’s revision sessions; finding obscure facts to try and trip him up with and rewarding him with sweets when he got a whole set of answers right – he’d even enjoyed listening to Yuzuru practicing his speeches, closing his eyes and letting himself focus on nothing but the sound of his soothing, engaging voice, offering hums of agreement to his favourite parts and waiting patiently when Yuzuru would break off to scribble notes and cross words out, sometimes chipping in with suggestions and other times letting Yuzuru have the space to unpick his own thoughts, passing the time by drawing in the margins of his notes instead. He noticed Yuzuru always smiled at his drawings – he liked it.

Shoma took a moment to consider which questions to use for the impromptu test, knowing that what Yuzuru really needed was the distraction rather than the practice; he tipped his head to one side, catching Yuzuru’s smile from the corner of his eye and flashing him a slight smirk.  
‘Ok: easy ones first,’ he said. ‘Population?’  
‘Over five million.’  
‘Official languages?’  
‘English, Malay, Mandarin, Tamil.’  
‘Territory?’  
‘Singapore is mostly a city state. There is one main island, but there are sixty…sixty-two islets in total, I think.’  
‘That was just showing off. Ok, tougher: number of members of the UN Grey Zone Advisory Committee?’  
‘Six, mostly in scientific and technological capacities.’  
‘Number of Grey Zones?’  
‘Three, although the largest Grey Zone formed over a year ago through the merging of two pre-existing Grey Zones, so technically it’s five.’  
‘Attitude towards Japan?’ Yuzuru scrunched his face up in a wince.  
‘Historically rocky, but on an upward curve in recent history – and allied on the Grey Zone problem.’  
‘Attitude towards the Foundation?’  
‘Positive. Significant donors, both government and private, surprisingly limited numbers of contributors with powers but well-represented in the research, science and creativity departments. Strong supporters of the initial Foundation project and committed to Brian’s vision going forward.’ Shoma nodded slowly, his lips twisting into a wry smile as he knocked teasingly into Yuzuru’s side.  
‘Attitude towards Yuzuru Hanyu?’ he asked, smirking wickedly when Yuzuru attempted to glare at him before tipping his head back with a laughing groan.  
‘Overwhelmingly positive. Too positive. Crazy-positive. There are two separate fan-clubs for me there and it’s really weird,’ he said, scrunching up his face, embarrassed and blushing slightly, and Shoma let out a high, hiccupping giggle.  
‘Aw, they really, really like you, huh?’ he teased, and Yuzuru shoved him playfully.  
‘More than you do, apparently,’ he huffed and Shoma wrinkled his nose, shaking his head.  
‘Not possible. No one thinks more highly of you than I do.’ Yuzuru glanced across at him with a soft smile and bumped their shoulders together.

They had made it to the outskirts of the Foundation complex, and Shoma could see all the way down to the main gate; there were small groups of people already gathering with their cases beside the coach, and out beyond the gates it was just possible to make out the small group of invited press, whose presence was being permitted by Brian in an effort to manage the crowds which he feared would swarm the airport to cover their departure. He glanced over at Yuzuru, who was narrowing his eyes at the scene before them, assessing the cameras calmly and nodding slightly to himself.  
‘Mostly in-house PR-people, some associated with the Japanese ministry who won’t push too hard,’ he remarked quietly, looking over at Shoma with a resigned shrug. ‘They can be trusted. It’s fine.’ Shoma offered him a sympathetic smile, reaching out to hook his little finger with Yuzuru’s and pushing slightly against him with his power. It sent a tiny thrill through him to see the moment Yuzuru felt it – to see the way it set flecks of gold alight in his dark eyes. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, leaning into Shoma just a little, and Shoma smiled conspiratorially up at him, shrugging.  
‘They can’t have what they can’t see,’ he said gently. Yuzuru’s lips curved up at one corner.  
‘I like that, Shoma. I like that a lot.’

As they moved off, Yuzuru made a beeline for where Brian and Tracy were standing deep in discussion with Ghislain, all three looking down at papers, occasionally leaning over to point at each other’s notes as they talked and rubbed at their chins like they were trying to unpick something complicated. If Shoma had been on his own, he would’ve left them to their problem-solving, but Yuzuru seemed undaunted and unabashed as he quickened his pace, half-running the final distance between them, a grin suddenly splitting his face. Shoma trailed behind him with a certain degree of resignation, hanging back just a little in the hope Yuzuru’s mentors wouldn’t pay him much mind. Besides Mihoko, Shoma still felt shy and uncertain around many of the Foundation staff. Tracy was the only exception, but for all she put him at ease with her manner, he was also sure she knew more than she let on, and he was conscious of how well she knew Yuzuru, how easy she found it to pull secrets out of him.

‘Ghislain!’ Yuzuru yelled, suddenly all childish delight, and Shoma smirked slightly, rolling his eyes as Yuzuru practically hurled himself at Ghislain, flinging his arms around him as though he hadn’t seen him in ten years and almost hitting him over the head with the garment bags. ‘Did you change your mind about coming with us?’ he joked as Ghislain staggered back slightly, chuckling, his kind face red-cheeked and shiny as he accepted Yuzuru’s ambush without complaint.  
‘Sorry, Yuzu; not this time. Someone has to keep an eye on the place,’ he replied, giving Yuzuru something of a bear-hug and patting him enthusiastically on the back several times.  
‘I rather suspect that that is Ghislain’s way of saying “Someone has to let the kids have fun whilst Brian’s not looking”,’ Tracy put in, gentle and amused. ‘If anyone could lead a munity here it would be you,’ she added, shaking her head at Ghislain slightly as Yuzuru finally released him from his grip.  
‘Ghislain wouldn’t mutiny,’ Yuzuru insisted, and Brian nodded sagely.  
‘Sure he wouldn’t. You, on the other hand, Mr. Hanyu…’ he joked, and Yuzuru laughed, wincing slightly.  
‘I’d say you were wrong, but I lost my moral high ground, right?’ He looked at Brian somewhat apologetically, and Brian rolled his eyes, amused and fond and despairing all at once.  
‘We’ve managed a good couple of years since we last had one of those moments; and in the end we both realised we were more or less of the same mind, that’s what really counts,’ he sighed. Yuzuru’s smile was small and faintly chagrined as he nodded.  
‘It worked out for the best.’ Brian glanced over Yuzuru’s shoulder to where Shoma stood.  
‘Apparently it did,’ he murmured, looking back at Yuzuru with an arched eyebrow. ‘Though I still say there’s something you’re not telling me – and that if you’d give that information up we could very easily avoid any repeat of the situation,’ he added firmly. ‘Didn’t we come to an understanding about secrets, Yuzu?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips and Tracy rolled her eyes.  
‘Boys, don’t start; it’s going to be a long day, no need to make more work of it than we have to,’ she joked wryly, and Brian and Yuzuru exchanged a glance, looking at each other with faint amusement for a moment before both laughing, Brian giving a resigned shrug.  
‘Alright, alright: I’m not going totalitarian on you, don’t worry. I won’t start making anyone tell me everything that’s going on all the time, not least because I’m not sure I could handle the office hours it would take. I’m just dreaming of a quiet life, that’s all,’ he said. ‘I suppose I picked the wrong job for that, though, right?’  
‘Sometimes the job picks you,’ Yuzuru stated quietly, eyes twinkling, and Brian laughed.  
‘You’re a smart kid, you know that?’  
‘I know,’ Yuzuru grinned, nodding, and Brian couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head at him and patting his shoulder.  
‘See: all’s well that ends well,’ Tracy said with a firm nod.

Tracy glanced over at Shoma then, flashing him a warm smile. ‘Good morning, Shoma; don’t worry about all this, Brian and Yuzu can go in circles for hours if you let them,’ she dismissed, pretending to glare at them before looking back at Shoma. ‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked kindly and Shoma gave a shy nod.  
‘Fine, thank you,’ he said quietly, eyes darting briefly from her face to Brian’s and back again, and Tracy nodded back, her eyes sparkling knowingly as she looked over at Yuzuru.  
‘Yuzu, did you let Shoma sleep or did you go to his room until all hours making him help you revise?’ she asked archly, raising an eyebrow, and Yuzuru pulled a face at her.  
‘It doesn’t count as me keeping him up if he falls asleep anyway,’ he whined, wrinkling his nose. ‘Javi told on me, right?’  
‘No, Javi didn’t “tell on you”, because the two of you aren’t seven years old,’ Brian said, his voice all despairing affection. ‘But he did show up here, coffee in hand, about ten minutes ago, actually looking well-rested and saying he needed to thank Shoma for taking you off his hands.’ Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘Well, that sounds a lot like telling on me,’ he sulked playfully, and Tracy and Ghislain smothered laughs as Brian cuffed him lightly round the back of the head. Yuzuru grinned, unbothered, and Shoma bit at his lip, trying to keep back a smile of his own. ‘Do I have to go in front of the cameras now or do I still have time?’ Yuzuru asked Brian then, and Brian’s smile softened as he shrugged.  
‘Well, that’s really up to you. If you’re ready then go for it, but if you need more time I’m not going to rush you – we still have a good half-hour before we need to get everybody on the coach.’ Yuzuru bobbed his head, slow and considering.  
‘I’ll go now; I should get it out of the way, right?’ he sighed, somehow resigned and happy at the same time.

Shoma noticed the looks being exchanged between the three mentors, caught the way they all looked at Yuzuru almost curiously, like they were as unsure as anyone else of what he might do. After a moment, Tracy turned her assessing gaze from Yuzuru over to Shoma, and he shrank back a little inside his jacket; her lips were barely curving up at one corner in a hint of a smile, and something in her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. Shoma bit at his lip and quickly looked away.  
‘If you want to get it out of the way then go for it; it’s honestly up to you, you know what you can handle,’ Brian told Yuzuru, giving his shoulder a squeeze. ‘Obviously this is the easy part where we can control it; so keep it measured, ok? You’re going to need to be on for most of the coming days, and not all those guys will be ones we know we can trust,’ he added with a sympathetic smile, and Yuzuru smiled back at him quietly, nodding.  
‘I know the drill,’ he shrugged, offering Ghislain a soft, grateful look when he rubbed his back comfortingly. ‘It’s fine. I feel fine today. Honestly.’ Brian arched an eyebrow, surprised, and Yuzuru smiled somewhat sheepishly. ‘I’m over it; it’s really, really fine,’ he insisted, rolling his eyes dismissively, and Shoma blushed when Brian looked between the two of them thoughtfully.  
‘Well, however it happened, I’m certainly glad to have you back on side; this trip wasn’t going to be much fun for any of us if you and me couldn’t see eye-to-eye, right?’  
‘Maybe: but you realised I was right eventually, so we’re ok now,’ Yuzuru said, eyes twinkling mischievously, and Brian cast him a smile that held only the faintest hint of warning.  
‘Don’t push it, Trouble,’ he said with a soft chuckle. ‘Go on, you go give them the big, bubbly arrival shots you’re so good at and I’m sure they’ll lap them up as usual. I’ll come and join you in a minute after I’ve finished going over these itinerary details.’ Yuzuru beamed at him, all feigned innocence and genuine brightness.  
‘Ok – they only want fluff now, right? So I’ll just go say “Good morning” twenty times and let them take pictures of me at the gates posing; it’s not so hard,’ he said, casual and unbothered, before glancing at Tracy with a softer smile. ‘Will you look after my stuff for me?’  
‘Of course, Yuzu,’ she said gently, holding out her arms and gesturing for him to offload his things.

As Yuzuru handed over his bags and dumped his rucksack, Tracy arched an eyebrow, noticing that one of the garment bags was labelled with Shoma’s name and flicking a glance his way; the very corner of her lips twitched into a brief smile that Shoma couldn’t read, and he bit at his lip, pulling his sleeves further down over his hands and looking away. She always seemed to know more than he wanted her to about every gesture he and Yuzuru ever shared; she knew Yuzuru too well and her intuition was frighteningly sharp – Shoma trusted her to be kind with that knowledge, but he couldn’t stop himself from almost constantly blushing every time she looked him in the eye, certain she was slowly gathering up all his secrets and learning things about him even he wasn’t certain of yet.

Yuzuru headed away, and Shoma was suddenly acutely aware of the prickle of curiosity he sensed from the three mentors as they watched him go; whatever they saw in Yuzuru this morning, they liked it, but didn’t quite understand. Shoma thought about taking the opportunity to quietly disappear, but he wasn’t sure he had been entirely dismissed from the conversation, and he sensed some of their curiosity about Yuzuru was mixed in with curiosity about him too. As much as he dreaded the possibility of them questioning him, he couldn’t bring himself to be rude, so instead he hovered awkwardly, biting his lip to bits and playing anxiously with the ends of his sleeves.  
‘I think this is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him on a departure day,’ Brian remarked carefully after a moment. Ghislain and Tracy hummed, thoughtful and considering, and Shoma looked up at them curiously.  
‘I think it’s been coming for a while, you know; in Warrior sessions lately he’s been really in-tune with his power. I didn’t think it was possible, but it might be getting stronger, you know? He’s starting to push it further than any other Warrior I know, and it doesn’t seem to drain him as much as it used to,’ Ghislain offered, and strangely, even though he was talking about Yuzuru in terms of power, Shoma could see that there was more protective affection in the words than any real interest in power training. ‘But maybe that’s not a good thing: he’s always at his best when he’s plotting something, I think. But I can’t help but smile to see it all the same,’ Ghislain added with a chuckle, eyes twinkly as he glanced at Tracy, who smiled back at him and gave a small roll of her eyes.  
‘Hey, for once? Don’t knock it, I say,’ she laughed. ‘And whatever it is, I hope it lasts; he’s always been on the brink about something since the day he got here – or it seems that way sometimes, looking back. But if he can finally find a way of marrying his frantic with his focus, his powers could probably become unstoppable…well, if they aren’t already,’ she added. ‘It’s honestly something special to have this light back in him. The press was really starting to wear him down lately, but I think now he’s coping better: like he’s sun-kissed and hopeful again.’ Shoma tensed a little at that, and was surprised when Tracy glanced back at him, her eyes glinting with something he didn’t quite understand. ‘You know, Shoma – I think we might have you to thank for this,’ she told him gently. Shoma’s face felt hot and he shifted uncomfortably, looking back at her with wide, confused eyes.  
‘I mean…I don’t…’ he twisted his fingers together and shrugged vaguely, pulling a face, and though Tracy’s smile was knowing, there was kindness in her eyes as she put out a placating hand.  
‘Don’t look so worried,’ she laughed, soft and reassuring. ‘I’m not accusing you of anything terrible.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded slowly, looking back down again. ‘All I’m trying to say is that you are a very strong Healer, you know? And I think maybe you radiate a little more of that outwards than you realise. Yuzu’s sensing ability makes him more aware of these things than I think even he knows; it makes me wonder if maybe he feels that strength of healing in you and can draw on it himself somehow. I think whatever it is it has done him some good. Because I’ll let you in on the worst kept secret at the Foundation, Shoma: he needed someone sure and calm like you, and that he found all this in someone who seems to be able to cope with his motor-mouth and force of will the way you do is a miracle, honestly.’ Shoma hid a smirk with a bite of his cheek and Tracy gave him a small pat on the shoulder. ‘I saw that look: you can’t fool me with the shy and innocent act – I’ve seen too much working here to believe only in what is on the surface.’ Shoma bobbed his head in an awkward half-bow, smiling slightly, and Tracy smiled back, mildly despairing as she shook her head at him. ‘I’ll be honest, it’s not a friendship I saw coming when you first came in all quiet and mild, you know? But I’m starting to think there’s some truth to the idea that still waters run deep…perhaps the two of you are both as much trouble as each other and you’re just better at hiding it, hey?’ She waggled her eyebrows and Shoma laughed.  
‘No comment?’ he said, timid but cheeky, and Tracy laughed, nodding.  
‘I thought as much,’ she smiled.

It was something of a relief to Shoma that the gaggle of Team Japan standing just across from the bus spotted him at that moment and decided to shout across a chorus of invitations to him to come and join them; he glanced over towards their shrieking group before glancing somewhat shyly back to Tracy, who offered him a warm smile and an encouraging nod. ‘Go on, you go – Yuzu will probably be a while yet, you should go be with your friends instead of us old-timers,’ she told him kindly. ‘I’ll take care of your bags for you.’ Shoma offered her a grateful smile, bobbing his head in a nod that turned into another small bow as he backed away, and she shook her head slightly, regarding him in a way Shoma suspected meant she was trying and failing to figure him out.

‘Shoma, get over here so we can make sure you look presentable!’ Kanako hollered, laughing as she beckoned him over enthusiastically, and Shoma rolled his eyes, attempting to suppress a smile with little success.  
‘I’m not taking presentation advice from someone who still has rainbow glitter on her face from last night,’ he shot back, and Kanako smacked his arm.  
‘Jealousy is an ugly emotion, Shoma,’ she joked, swiping vaguely at the glitter on her face with a small frown. ‘This is why you should never accept an invite to go dancing with Nobu, huh?’ she added then and Shoma laughed, shrugging.  
‘I mean…I can think of a lot of reasons to not go dancing with Nobu, so…’ he pointed out.  
‘Shoma!’ Nobu whined. ‘You’re so rude. _Yuzu_ comes dancing with me.’  
‘Since when?!’ Kanako snorted.  
‘Ok, so he came once. And he didn’t know we were going dancing. And he didn’t dance so much as sit and watch my impressive karaoke performances with a look on his face like he didn’t know why we were friends. But he was there and I danced, so it counts,’ Nobu nodded, and Kanako rolled her eyes.  
‘Sure, if you say so,’ she smirked, looking over at the others with a softer smile. ‘Be grateful you are going to Singapore with the sensible boys of Team Japan instead of this one, huh?’ she sighed playfully, suppressing a laugh when Nobu elbowed her.  
‘So mean! I can’t believe I’m not going this time; who will look after our new ones, huh? You think Yuzu will?! He will scare them half to death with his “I Mean Business” stare!’ he pointed out. ‘We are sending all our fluffy little ducklings off into the world today almost entirely unsupervised – it’s so exciting and so terrifying,’ he added, clasping his hands together and sticking out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, glancing around the group with wide eyes. Kanako flicked his ear, giggling.  
‘Maybe some of them are ducklings, but not Shoma here,’ she insisted, looking over at Shoma with a devilish smile. ‘Shoma is our terribly trained puppy – and we have to hope Yuzu will take the leash for us, because I don’t think the world is ready for him to be set free just yet.’  
‘Shut up, if you don’t come on the trip then you don’t get to judge me,’ Shoma sulked, barging his shoulder into her and suppressing a smile when she stuck her tongue out at him.  
‘There were fewer spots for Healers than usual, I think; me and Nobu have been replaced!’ she lamented, throwing an arm around Shoma’s shoulders and squeezing tightly. Shoma squirmed away from her, making her laugh again, and he rolled his eyes, flicking his hair out of his face with a put-upon sigh.  
‘You say that like you didn’t spend all day yesterday telling everyone what a relief it was you weren’t coming,’ he pointed out, wrinkling his nose at her and trying not to laugh when she poked at his side.  
‘Shoma! Stop giving away my secrets!’  
‘If they’re secrets then you should stop telling all of us,’ Satoko pointed out with a fond smile.  
‘But how un-Team-Japan-like that would be,’ Nobu whined. ‘We share everything!’  
‘We share _too much_ ,’ Keiji offered with a shudder.  
‘Now you sound like Shoma,’ Satoko laughed, and Shoma smirked, nudging Keiji in the side.  
‘I knew you’d see sense eventually.’ Keiji smiled at him wryly.  
‘Sometimes, Shoma, I think you see the world more clearly than anyone,’ he nodded. ‘Other times? I just think you’re a disaster.’ Shoma pulled a face and Keiji laughed. ‘Just being honest; we need to go forward into this trip in the spirit of honesty, I think, or we’ll all have torn each other apart before the plane lands.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘You say that now, but wait ‘til I start being honest with you,’ he muttered darkly, eyes sparkling with mischief, and Wakaba let out a joking squeak.  
‘Uh-oh – I think he’s about to be more than 3% evil now,’ she declared, her whole face scrunching up into a silly smile that Shoma couldn’t quite bring himself to deny. ‘How will we protect our new ones from this, huh?!’ she added with a gasp, referring to the three new arrivals who had also made the cut for the summit trip, who were standing, quietly amused, to the other side of Nobu.  
‘Why would I hurt them? For a start, I don’t think Mai has ever hurt anyone in her whole life. And me, Kazuki and Kaori already formed an alliance over pizza last week,’ Shoma shot back, shrugging. ‘The rest of you are fair game, though: you guys have no respect for me at all.’  
‘Because we know you better, Sho; we’re aware that you’re a nightmare who needs to be stopped,’ Wakaba nodded insistently, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Kaori can be turned: give me one Team Japan girls’ sleepover and I will win.’  
‘I’m kind of scared now,’ Kaori put in and Wakaba shook her head.  
‘There is nothing to be scared of: Shoma is all fierce words and fuzzy-headedness,’ she smiled impishly, and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘I’m so gonna set Yuzu on you,’ he said, pursing his lips as Wakaba giggled.  
‘What is Yuzu gonna do to me? He wouldn’t hurt a fly!’ she insisted.  
‘You’ve not seen him angry,’ Kanako shuddered.  
‘And he might hurt the fly if the fly hurt Shoma, actually,’ Keiji muttered quietly. Shoma elbowed him and he pulled a face. ‘What? You think I’m wrong?!’  
‘Waka, really: you need to be careful of Yuzu! He has bony knees and surprising upper-body strength – it’s terrifying!’ Nobu insisted, widening his eyes comically and making frantic gestures with his hands that only made Wakaba laugh harder.  
‘It’s true. He’s a pincher too,’ Kanako nodded, attempting to keep her expression solemn even as her eyes glittered with impish glee.  
‘Tell me about it; my arm is black and blue after yesterday,’ Shoma whined, rubbing at his only-mildly-bruised bicep to make the point.  
‘Oh: practice questions, right?’ Keiji smiled at him, knowing and vaguely amused. Shoma nodded. ‘Yuzu really never shows any mercy when you trip him up with a difficult question he can’t answer, huh? I have some war-stories, let me tell you.’  
‘I know, right?! He says something is just fun and the next thing you know everything is on fire – he’s too much of a perfectionist,’ Nobu agreed. Shoma smiled, almost bashful.  
‘I don’t mind it,’ he mumbled, mostly to his shoes. ‘It’s kind of funny how much it bothers him when he doesn’t get something right first time,’ he added with a shrug.  
‘You wouldn’t think it when you see him on the news, but he is the biggest, brattiest baby,’ Nobu nodded, beaming as though it were a compliment. ‘I’m going to miss having him around this week. Taka and Dai are just not as easy to wind up; who am I going to have crazy playfights with?! I don’t even have Shoma to bug!’  
‘Maybe this trip is really about Brian smuggling all of your victims out of the Foundation – had you thought about that, huh?’ Kanako laughed, smacking Nobu fondly round the back of the head and rolling her eyes. Shoma smothered a smirk.  
‘Well if you want to hitch a lift, Kana: pick Yuzu’s bag. _Please_. He was done packing in about two minutes and I think he should suffer for being so smug,’ he said. Kanako giggled, throwing her head back wildly.  
‘Oh, Shoma, don’t give me such tempting ideas! Can you imagine?! I could jump out of his case and he would yell so loudly all of Singapore would hear him!’  
‘I 100% support this plan!’ Wakaba beamed, raising her hand excitably, and Satoko smothered a laugh, smacking her lightly on the shoulder and shaking her head.  
‘I feel so bad for him! You’re all so mean: as if he doesn’t have enough on his mind, now he has to worry about all of you playing tricks on him too,’ she sighed, eyes sparkling with amusement as Wakaba threw her arms around her.  
‘Don’t feel bad – come over to our side! It’s so much more fun!’  
‘Or you could stay neutral with us,’ Mai offered sweetly. ‘I think it’s safer.’  
‘Is anything safe around here?’ Kazuki asked with a sheepish grin, and Shoma flashed him a smirk.  
‘Don’t bet on it. Team Japan are relentless; I’d get out now if I were you,’ he shrugged, ducking away with an unapologetic grin when Kanako smacked at him. ‘You see what I mean?! You want a quiet life try Team China; they do this weird thing where they’re nice to each other and actually respect each other’s privacy,’ Shoma muttered, rubbing his arm. Kazuki laughed.  
‘Are we not nice to each other?’ he asked.  
‘We express our love through violent tickle fights and a lack of boundaries, that’s all,’ Kanako told him, and Shoma shuddered.  
‘It’s the lack of boundaries that gets you,’ he said dryly. Kanako shot him a glare.  
‘Don’t listen to Shoma; you’ve probably noticed by now that he is just our resident demon…I truly have no idea how he got picked to go to Singapore instead of me.’  
‘I have no idea how any of us got picked instead of you,’ Mai said, her expression earnest and a little nervous. ‘You know what you’re doing and we’ve only been here five minutes.’  
‘Right?! I mean: it’s exciting but…it’s a lot more than I was expecting, honestly,’ Kaori agreed, shaking her head in a sweetly overwhelmed, excitable way and bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘We only just got here and now we’re going to a summit with _Yuzuru Hanyu_.’  
‘Trust me, he’s not that special,’ Shoma remarked, sly and mischievous. ‘Mostly he’s just exhausting and whiney, in my experience.’ His smile was wicked but still somewhat fond, and Keiji cuffed him round the back of the head, rolling his eyes and smothering a smirk before turning back to the others with a shrug.  
‘Ignore Shoma: his idea of social interaction is making sly digs under his breath that he knows you can hear but pretends you can’t. Besides: what he’s not telling you is he’s pretty much been Yuzu’s shadow ever since he got here – they’re a chaotic, annoying double act who buzz around in my ear all the time causing me headaches and generally being off in their own world. But honestly? Yuzu’s mostly cool – he’s loud, but he’s genuine. And he’s one of us, you know? The myths don’t mean anything once you’ve been around him for a while, and there’s no one who takes the hype less seriously than him,’ Keiji said with a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry about why you’ve been invited too much and try to enjoy being involved; this is just how it works sometimes – the Japanese ministry probably wants to promote new faces, to show the strength in depth of our country.’  
‘That’s true actually: Yuzu said Brian more or less took their whole list as-suggested for this trip. Something about showing belief in their choices? I don’t know. He talks. A lot. I wasn’t really listening by that point,’ Shoma offered, pulling a face.  
‘Sure, but also, I mean…the world’s probably just tired of looking at Nobu’s ugly face, right?!’ Kanako teased, letting out a bubble of laughter as Nobu huffed at her.  
‘My face is beautiful – and you’re stuck with it, so be nice!’ he complained loudly.

Yuzuru was still busy with his press duties when it came time to get onto the bus. As Tracy began chivvying everyone to get their things together, Shoma slipped subtlety away from the others and went to find a quiet spot for himself. Tracy had left Yuzuru’s backpack on a seat not far from the back, and Shoma slid into the spot, taking the seat by the window and leaving Yuzuru’s backpack where it was in the hope of deterring any offers of company – the others were feeling boisterous and talkative, and Shoma’s lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him. He leant his head against the window, closing his eyes for a moment and listening to the chatter and hum of people settling in around him; phones chirped and laughter bounced through the fuzzy-warm air of the coach, and Shoma wrinkled his nose as the engine was started, jarring his forehead slightly against the window as the whole bus shook into life. The Americans all seemed to be on their fourth coffees of the day and were in startlingly good form as a result; their voices carried down the whole length of the bus as they argued good-naturedly about who was going to sit next to who and swapped complaints about flight times and jetlag.

As the mood settled a little more, Shoma opened his eyes and stifled a yawn, looking out to where Yuzuru was finishing up an interview. He was bowing politely and laughing brightly at the woman standing behind the camera as some complication arose over extricating him from his microphone, and he looked smart and professional and so on it was almost frightening. It occurred to Shoma – not for the first time – that he had no idea how he did it, or where he found the strength to face so many eyes every time he ventured even just a few steps outside of the Foundation’s walls. It wasn’t something Shoma could ever imagine taking in stride himself – the exposure of it, the constant clamour. He thought he could probably withstand it, to a point, could internalise it; but Yuzuru did more than that, he filtered it, took the good and used it and did his best to keep down the bad. Shoma couldn’t imagine what it took to process the noise that way.

‘He is on form this morning, no?’ came a gentle voice from the seat behind, and Shoma jumped slightly, twisting to look up into Javier’s smiling face. His dark eyes were warm and twinkling, and he was looking at Shoma in that sincere, protective way of his that made Shoma smile; there was no grudge-holding with Javier, and whilst he could be fiery in a moment of irritation, he was too soft-hearted to be cruel for long, and he seemed to have developed a soft spot for Shoma somewhere along the way that Shoma was grateful for. He blinked up at him, bleary and confused, and Javier let out a rough laugh, nodding his head out towards where Yuzuru was happily calling out his thanks to the gaggle of press as he waved goodbye to them, backing away as he took the time to give each person a personal bow or wave. ‘This is the start of a marathon for him, but he seems in good spirits – like the sun is shining on him, but inside, you know?’ Javier shrugged. Shoma tensed a little, studying his face for any hint that Yuzuru may have told him something, but Javier’s expression was open and honest, his gaze still on Yuzuru and his mouth curving into a wry smile. ‘I will still worry about him, of course. But maybe not so much, with this spirit about him now. I’m glad you two sorted out whatever misunderstanding was had.’ He flicked Shoma a soft look. ‘I meant what I said, you know? But perhaps my timing might need some work. Yuzu tells me it is done, though. So it is done, no hard feelings. I’m used to treating him like too much of a kid maybe – like when he first came here, because that is how he has almost become fixed in my mind, like neither one of us has done any growing up. I think this is why I get how I do; I get too fierce too fast. Sometimes…my friendship with him takes work, because maybe we wouldn’t be friends if we weren’t both in the positions we are in here, and it is difficult to acknowledge that, to be both close and not close at once. I maybe overcompensate. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.’  
‘It’s ok…I…I know where you were coming from. You were worried. And I…didn’t speak up when I should’ve,’ Shoma shrugged, looking down. ‘Your first priority was Yuzu, not whether or not I wanted to talk about it.’  
‘Well, Yuzu was right; I shouldn’t have come in so strong and expected you to be ok with it in front of so many people. But you’re right too: I’m protective of him, always. Whether we are friends by circumstance or not, I care about him a lot, and I know him better than he gives me credit for.’

Shoma nodded silently, and both of them glanced back out of the window of the bus to watch Yuzuru finally extricate himself from his round of fiercely charming goodbyes, departing with a silly wave and a spin on his heel. Javier chuckled softly, shaking his head. ‘Of course, this here? It is nothing; you wait until the scene when we land at the other end, then you will see what he really has to deal with. But at least he is starting from a good place – I am glad he is not leaving in the mood he was in before. Whatever he sensed from you scared him, Shoma; but now all he senses in you seems to make him smile. It is good for the press, but it is even better for him – he is more like Yuzu than he has been for a long time, and I’d forgotten how much I’d missed seeing that in him.’ Javier offered Shoma a bright smile, his expression suddenly mischievous. ‘Also? I’m so very glad someone else is finally going to be stuck next to him on the plane; he is all elbows, no? It is a relief to me to go without this: I can only wish you luck, my friend.’ He waggled his eyebrows jokingly, and Shoma pulled a face, sliding down a little in his seat so his jacket rode up to his ears.  
‘Urgh. I should’ve known he was bribing me with cookies and hot chocolate for a reason,’ he muttered, and Javier laughed, ruffling his hair before flopping back down into his seat with a yawn. Shoma chose not to mention that Yuzuru really didn’t need to bribe him; he was warm and comfortable and ridiculously gentle, and Shoma would take an elbow to the ribs from him in exchange for that in a heartbeat. 

Shoma had almost dozed off when he heard the sound of Brian’s voice on the edge of his consciousness, the rustle and clump of footsteps and movement coming down the aisle of the coach. He opened one eye and lifted his head somewhat sleepily just in time to see Yuzuru wrinkling his nose at Brian as he patted him firmly on the back.  
‘…well, you’re certainly doing us proud today, they seem pretty pleased with what they got from that – I think it’ll hold off some of the masses for a little while. Go find a seat and get some rest before the next round, ok?’ Brian’s voice was followed by the distinctive sound of Yuzuru letting out some petulant whine of protest and getting fondly fussed over by Tracy in return, and Shoma smirked slightly, shaking his head to himself and slumping back a little in his seat.  
‘I think Shoma’s saved a spot for you back there,’ Tracy told Yuzuru. ‘You go and recharge a little before the scene at the airport; I’m sure you two have got some important whispering-you-think-I-don’t-see to be getting on with, right?’ Tracy gave Yuzuru’s shoulder a squeeze, and Yuzuru looked across to Shoma immediately, his face splitting into a tired smile as he met his gaze. ‘I thought so,’ Tracy smirked, knowing and amused, and Yuzuru laughed, pulling a face at her before moving off.

‘Hi.’ Yuzuru threw himself down into the seat beside Shoma with just enough force to knock their shoulders together, and Shoma smiled at him dryly, shifting in his seat until his back was to the window.  
‘Hi,’ he replied, soft and quiet. ‘Success?’ he asked, his expression mildly teasing but his eyes gentle, and Yuzuru shrugged, adjusting his own position so the two of them were facing each other.  
‘It was ok. I didn’t forget anything important.’ Shoma smiled, offering out a palm to Yuzuru, who laughed softly and happily responded, accepting the offered low-five before holding out his fist to Shoma in return. Shoma wrinkled his nose but bumped his fist anyway, letting out a soft laugh when Yuzuru then proceeded to offer out his little finger. Shoma hooked his own around it and the two of them shook hands that way, short and sharp, before falling back against their seats with soft smiles. ‘One down, so many more to go,’ Yuzuru sighed. Shoma nudged him with his foot and Yuzuru met his eyes; for a moment they stared at each other, Shoma’s smile almost mischievous as he let his power reach out towards Yuzuru and saw him visibly shiver, eyes dancing. Yuzuru hummed, like a cat purring as it rolled into a patch of sunlight, and he rested his head to one side, looking at Shoma thoughtfully. ‘You’re getting too good at that,’ he murmured. Shoma pulled a face, glancing down to hide a blush.  
‘It’s just…easy for me to focus my power on you, I guess. It’s like you’re the switch or something; the only switch it’s ever had anyway,’ he admitted quietly. Yuzuru regarded him for a moment, his eyelids heavy and his smile gentle, and Shoma swallowed hard, suddenly aware of his static playing a little more insistently along his skin. And then Yuzuru held out his hand, resting it on the sliver of seat between them, out of everyone else’s view. Shoma smiled, taking it immediately and shifting his weight so his head dropped onto Yuzuru’s shoulder gratefully. ‘Stop making this seem easy.’  
‘I will if you will,’ Yuzuru replied, and Shoma laughed into his shoulder, closing his eyes for a beat and enjoying how soft and fresh Yuzuru’s jacket was against his cheek.

Shoma dozed as Brian called out a register, smiling slightly when Yuzuru answered for him and laughing into the crook of his neck when he elbowed him lightly in response; around them everyone else was all conversation and enthusiasm, but as always Yuzuru seemed content with the wordless push and pull Shoma offered him, messing around with something on his phone and occasionally shifting his weight when his arm went dead or his headphones got tangled. Eventually he rested his head on top of Shoma’s with a heavy sigh, and Shoma knew from the sound of his breathing that he must have fallen asleep, though he still didn’t let go of Shoma’s hand.

When Shoma next opened his eyes, the bus was coming up towards the airport, and Yuzuru was awake, holding his phone up in front of him as he made an attempt to fix his hair. Shoma smirked slightly, stretching.  
‘You trying to make yourself look pretty, Yuzu?’ he asked through a yawn, squeaking in protest when Yuzuru poked him in the soft, sensitive spot just beneath ribs that he knew always made him squirm.  
‘Sho, I was born pretty,’ Yuzuru teased, laughing when Shoma pulled a sceptical face at him. He reached out, and Shoma let out a sleepy yelp, shrinking back as Yuzuru tickled him shamelessly.  
‘Fine, fine, ok, you win,’ he whimpered, pushing him away and trying not to smile. He shook his hair out of his face and heaved himself upright. ‘You are very pretty – happy now?’ he huffed, shooting Yuzuru a playful glare. Yuzuru let out another laugh.  
‘At least I look more presentable than you, hey?’ he grinned, reaching out to try to smooth down Shoma’s somewhat unruly hair and pursing his lips to try and hide his smile when Shoma swotted his hand away sharply. ‘Grumpy.’ He stuck his tongue out at Shoma and scrunched his face up gleefully when Shoma crossed his eyes at him by way of a retort.

The two of them were still jostling – Shoma trying to disrupt Yuzuru as he went back to fixing his hair and Yuzuru attempting to do considerable damage to Shoma’s shins – when Brian made his way down the aisle towards them. Shoma shrank back into his seat, sobering instantly, and Yuzuru shot him an amused glance, shamelessly digging at him with his elbow even as Brian looked at them curiously.  
‘Apparently I was wrong: you are seven years old, Yuzu,’ he said with a wry smile, blue eyes bright, and Yuzuru smiled up at him, shrugging blithely.  
‘Maybe. Maybe Shoma just brings out the worst in people.’ Shoma frowned, kicking Yuzuru’s ankle, and Yuzuru smothered another laugh. Brian hummed, sceptical and smiling as he looked at Shoma in a way that made him retreat into his jacket again self-consciously.  
‘Honestly, Yuzu? I’m not sure which one of you I trust the least; I get the feeling he’s as much trouble as you are but better at hiding it,’ Brian said with shake of his head, flashing Shoma a quick wink before folding his arms. ‘Now, it’s decision time. Do you have any thoughts on how we handle things when we get to the terminal? And when I say “any thoughts”, you know that what I mean is actually “will you please be less stubborn for once”, right?’ Brian was looking at Yuzuru with his eyebrows raised, his expression somewhere between a plea and a reprimand, and Shoma noticed Yuzuru couldn’t quite meet his eyes.  
‘We know for sure there are people waiting?’ he asked. Brian sighed.  
‘Sadly; it’s not hard for them to work out which flight we’re taking, given the fact the itinerary is public now. There’s a few journalists, some photographers – the usual curious onlookers feeling nosy, of course. Which is why security need to know what you want to do.’ Shoma moved his hand to knock his knuckles gently into Yuzuru’s, biting at his lip slightly as he studied his face; he saw the smallest of smiles briefly flicker in his eyes as their hands touched, so Shoma repeated the action, a little more insistently, still gentle but encouraging. ‘You know where I stand: I think you should make the most of the protection of the group whilst you can. You won’t have the luxury once we land in Singapore – there’ll be twice the press, ten times the people and probably an organised press conference where your presence will be mandatory. But here? We can manage it. You can walk in with all of us, security doesn’t need to be quite so dramatic, and when you don’t answer any questions we can pass it off as you simply being hemmed in by the rest of the group.’  
‘That won’t stop people thinking I should stay and talk and pose for photographs,’ Yuzuru sighed. and Brian shrugged.  
‘And when we land in Singapore and you do stop for pictures, whilst surrounded by half the country’s security services, then they will call you overdramatic and arrogant. That won’t be true either, but it will still get printed.’ His bright eyes stared Yuzuru down almost sternly, but Shoma saw it was a cover for a painful amount of sympathy; just like Shoma, Brian clearly wished he could erase the cruellest words from every newspaper page, take them away from Yuzuru’s name forever because they didn’t belong there. ‘There comes a point when you realise you can’t win for losing, Yuzu – so all you can do is try your best and hope the people who matter know it’s enough. You need to look after yourself or you won’t be fit to help anyone else.’

Shoma nudged at Yuzuru’s hand again, his touch faint but enough to make Yuzuru look across at him, eyes bright and curious, and for a moment time stuttered around them, Shoma’s power briefly trying to get loose before it found itself centring down on Yuzuru’s lightning once more. Shoma could feel the mildly confused frown Brian was giving the two of them, but he didn’t look away from Yuzuru, widening his eyes at him slightly and shrugging, coaxing a small laugh out of him.  
‘Sho,’ he whined. Brian looked from Shoma to Yuzuru and back again, eyes narrowing.  
‘Are you two boys going to share any of this non-verbal conversation with me or am I going to have to go and get Tracy to decode?’ he sighed. Shoma forced back a smile, looking down and hunching in a little, somehow shy and proud at the same time. This time it was Yuzuru who knocked his hand into Shoma’s, flicking him a sidelong glance.  
‘There are things they can’t have. And very much they cannot see. I should remember they don’t have the whole story and let them see just enough of the truth, no?’ he asked softly. Shoma’s lips twisted into a lopsided smile, his eyes twinkling.  
‘I’m saying nothing,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘You don’t have to when I can feel it, Sho. I would like to stay in the sun a little longer, for sure – and maybe the feeling would be enough to pacify the cameras from a distance for a little while,’ he said with a small smile.  
‘Sounds to me like you just answered your own question,’ Shoma shrugged.  
‘Because you just tricked me.’  
‘You tricked yourself; you can’t help but follow what you sense, it’s who you are.’  
‘Ok, time out: translation, please?!’ Brian interrupted them, somewhere between frustrated and amused, and Yuzuru looked up at him with a sheepish smile.  
‘I’ll come in with everyone. No interviews or stopping for pictures, just “Hello” and nod and smile and keep walking. But if anyone doesn’t want to be in all those photographs then please let them walk separately? I don’t want to be a pain to everyone; I know how intimidating the crowd can be, especially this early in the morning.’  
‘Yuzu, you are our pain and we love you for it, I promise you. And I think you’re making the right decision; we all know the drill and we know it’s not your fault, ok? We’d rather shelter you whilst we can,’ Brian sighed before shaking his head with a small smile. ‘Are you really sure about this? I was expecting to have to fight you more, honestly.’ Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘No, I’m not sure. But there are people I trust who are: that is enough for me. I know who I am safe with; I have faith in them.’ Shoma’s breath stuttered just a little at the faith behind the statement, and he gave his hand a small, understanding squeeze that Yuzuru returned immediately.

Even though Shoma had seen similar scenes played out on repeat during news reports, it still was somewhat bewildering to see the curious mix of people who gathered and swarmed about behind the airport’s hastily-erected barriers, clamouring and excited as they saw the coach arrive. It wasn’t the biggest crowd, but it was still significant enough to cause a scene, the commotion attracting curious bystanders to come and stand alongside the waiting fans and journalists. Although Yuzuru was the Foundation’s biggest name – occupying a strange, quasi-celebrity status in the public consciousness – many of the others at the Foundation had also become household names thanks to reports of the events which had first drawn their powers to public attention and their successful appearances in PR days and official visits. Much like Yuzuru, the nature of that fame didn’t quite allow them to fit into the sombre, political circles they often moved in, encouraging altogether more informal sorts of attention that was somewhat at odds with the serious nature of their work. Cheers went up for Nathan, Ashley, Adam and the Shibutanis, a rush of excited chatter spread around when people realised both Alina and Evgenia had made the cut, and a storm of whoops and claps greeted Javier as he stepped off the bus with a charming smile and a cheeky wave. And yet it was all nothing compared to the excitable sounds which greeted Yuzuru; he smiled politely in the face of the madness, breathing out quick, clipped words of thanks as he passed people calling out his name and ignoring questions and requests and camera flashes as he concentrated on collecting his suitcase along with everyone else. Purposeful as ever, he shuttered in and pushed on.

Shoma took charge of the garment bags this time, slinging them hurriedly over one arm and scrambling to yank his bag out from the haphazard pile that was amassing on the pavement beside the bus. Yuzuru had tugged his own case over towards Brian and Tracy, trying to keep himself busy with fussing over repacking his backpack in an effort to not seem rude as he continued to ignore the clamour that grew louder every time he moved. Security had arrived, amassing around the group and consulting with Brian about pathways through into check-in; Shoma saw the way the tall, gruff-looking men and women all looked at Yuzuru, caught the mild curiosity in their faces as they finally got a look at the polite, waiflike creature causing half the fuss and wondered how it was someone so young and so slight was supposed to save the world.

The whole scene was surreal, and Shoma felt oddly disconnected from it; he stood on the edges, watching impassively as the rest of their group got themselves together and let Brian corral them into some sort of orderly line. As they finally began to walk through the pathway cleared out for them by the airport staff, Shoma realised there were some people pointing to him and others, whispering journalists consulting the Foundation’s official documentation in an effort to put names to new faces and an enthusiastic gaggle of girls with camera phones taking pictures and cooing excitedly at the results. It was bewildering and terrifying, but Shoma knew it was nothing compared to the fuss Yuzuru was dealing with over towards the front of the line, and he craned his neck, standing up on his tiptoes for a moment to try and pick him out. He wasn’t hard to spot – the flurry of flashbulbs and the commotion of people straining over barriers was a giveaway, and Shoma felt the briefest flicker of uncertainty in Yuzuru’s lightning. Although he had agreed to walk with everyone, his pace had taken him away from everyone, leaving him alone, exposed and vulnerable. Brian and Tracy were a little ahead of him, leading the way, and there were several security guards between where Yuzuru was and where Patrick and Javier headed up the remainder of the line, walking far too nonchalantly to have any hope of catching up with Yuzuru’s determined march. Shoma glanced at the people around him – Satoko, Keiji and Kazuki were all engrossed in their conversation, and in front of him the Shibutanis were busy waving to people like the consummate professionals they were. Shoma chewed at his lip, his eyes scanning for a pathway through the bodies and suitcases; everyone else might have accepted Yuzuru was going to stubbornly try and protect them all from the chaos by striding ahead, but Shoma had yet to back down from a single challenge when it came to Yuzuru, and he didn’t think Yuzuru should be martyring himself quite so early on in the trip, given the weight of expectation which still lay ahead.

Shoma quickened his pace, weaving his way through the group and slipping between the two security guards immediately behind Yuzuru, falling into step with him with a careful ease. Yuzuru turned in surprise and Shoma bumped into his shoulder softly, offering him a sly smile.  
‘Hi,’ he said, leaning in just a little, and Yuzuru’s expression gentled, a slow, lazy smile curving his lips and crinkling his eyes at the corners.  
‘Hi,’ he replied, bumping Shoma’s shoulder in return. ‘You really want to walk with me?’ Yuzuru asked then, eyebrows quirked sceptically and something nervous in his gaze, and Shoma shrugged, looking down at his feet with a lopsided smile.  
‘It’s like you said once: if all eyes are on you, it’s better they’re judging for something close to the truth, right? Well…the truth is, I walk with you. So…I’ll walk with you now.’ He glanced up at Yuzuru, who had slowed his pace a little and was looking at him with unguarded gentleness – there was something wild and sparkling in his eyes and Shoma felt his lightning come to life, sending a shiver down his spine.  
‘I wish I could always walk with you,’ Yuzuru said quietly and Shoma shrugged.  
‘You do,’ he replied. ‘Maybe not always literally, but we promised, right? Honesty and constant connection. I think that means…you do. Always walk with me, I mean. We always walk together even when we don’t; that’s just the way the universe works for us, I think.’

Shoma realised there were cameras capturing the interaction, that his picture would probably end up splashed on a few front pages back in Japan, because it had been a long time since Yuzuru had been seen outside the Foundation, and longer still since he’d been seen being allowed to act his age with his friends – there would be opinion pieces and analysis and maybe even questions about how it was someone so new to the Foundation was suddenly so close to its biggest star. But in that moment Shoma didn’t care; Yuzuru was smiling his real smile, not the thin, pale thing he had been offering to the crowds before, and his drums were beating strongly once more in Shoma’s ears.

The two of them put their heads down and walked quickly, Yuzuru still nodding politely every time his name was called out from somewhere in the crowd beyond until finally they made it through to the relative peace of the check-in area, where Brian and Tracy were standing waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. Tracy arched an eyebrow at the two of them as they approached, folding her arms and smiling shrewdly.  
‘Weren’t you two at opposite ends of the line last time I checked?’ she asked, and Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘Shoma caught up: he’s a quick study,’ he shrugged, pulling his case to a halt and wrinkling his nose when Tracy shot him a vaguely amused smile.  
‘Well alrighty then,’ she laughed, turning to share a look with Brian. ‘I think you’re going to need to check our two little limpets here into seats together for this flight.’ Brian chuckled.  
‘It’s looking pretty non-negotiable at this point,’ he agreed, looking at Yuzuru fondly. ‘If Javi cries, it’ll be on your head not mine,’ he added with an impish smile, and Yuzuru laughed, wrinkling his nose.  
‘Javi will get over it, I’m sure,’ he said, nudging Shoma’s arm gently and flicking him a sidelong glance. ‘You ready to be stuck with me for…basically the next twenty hours?’ His expression was a curious mix of mischief and apology and Shoma couldn’t help but smile, rolling his eyes and letting out a playful groan.  
‘I’m so glad my main plan for the next twenty hours is to sleep,’ he said, laughing when Yuzuru smacked his arm petulantly.  
‘Your main plan is always to sleep, Sho,’ Yuzuru told him with a put-upon sigh, his eyes sparkling as he caught Shoma’s sly smile and met it with a soft, quiet smile of his own.  
‘I really hope I’m not going to regret putting you two together,’ Brian remarked dryly, though his eyes were bright and fond.

Their group was shepherded into one of the airport’s secluded lounges after check-in, and it was welcome relief to Shoma to feel everyone’s energy finally settle down somewhat as they distributed themselves about the space. He and Yuzuru ended up squashed together with the rest of Team Japan in a quiet booth towards the back, Yuzuru leaning sleepily against Shoma with one headphone in, watching him work his way through a game on his phone, occasionally making little sounds of approval or surprise that made Shoma smile, strangely proud of himself. Kaori and Mai were staring at Yuzuru – sweet and wide-eyed – and Shoma flicked them a knowing look, pulling a face at them and smirking when they collapsed into a fit of shy giggles and started whispering behind their hands. He couldn’t quite blame them; they had hardly seen anything of Yuzuru since they had arrived at the Foundation, and he supposed it was probably a little overwhelming to suddenly be sharing a booth with someone of his current status back home in Japan, and more overwhelming still to be seeing him at his huffy, whiny, humming-along-to-his-music best, his cheek squashed against Shoma’s shoulder and his feet up on the seat like a sleepy child. Kazuki, who was sitting to Shoma’s other side, also kept glancing over, a kind, careful smile in his eyes as he snuck subtle glances Yuzuru’s way; his way was subtler and sweetly reverent, and Shoma empathised, thinking it was perhaps how he would have reacted if he didn’t have the power to sense and Yuzuru hadn’t been the one to seek him out first.

Shoma was taken out of his thoughts by the low burr of his phone against the table and he picked it back up, rolling his eyes when he realised it was a string of messages from Itsuki, revelling in the ridiculousness of the fact he had just seen Shoma’s face in the evening news; “Your secret is out! Mum and Dad know you’re friends with Superpower Boy and I think you’re officially their favourite child!” he declared five messages into his teasing and nonsensical questions, and Shoma rolled his eyes, sending back a “Shut up” before scrolling back up to go through some of the links and pictures Itsuki had interspersed between messages. He hesitated over a watermarked press photo, looking down at it with a small smile: he and Yuzuru as they were about to turn out of view of the camera, Yuzuru’s face crinkled up in laughter and Shoma’s elbow in his side. It wasn’t a side of Yuzuru the world got to glimpse often enough, and he hoped they saw the pure warmth of it the way he did instead of trying to twist the carefree moment into something Yuzuru somehow didn’t deserve. His phone buzzed again and he smiled despite himself: the message read “I hope you don’t find the flight as much torture as you usually do. Tell Yuzu to look after you or I’ll come for him” and was followed up by an excessive string of emojis. Shoma nudged Yuzuru in the side, showing him the screen, and Yuzuru let out a soft laugh, wrinkling his nose.  
‘I don’t need telling,’ he said firmly. ‘Give me the phone,’ he added, not waiting for Shoma’s response and instead taking the phone from his hand. He let Shoma watch as he sent “If you have something to say to me, say it to my face”, followed promptly by his number, his name and an excessive string of emojis of his own, and Shoma laughed into his shoulder.  
‘You’re going to regret that.’ Yuzuru shook his head.  
‘Not a chance. I trust you, you trust him. Besides: how else are we supposed to keep you out of trouble, huh?’ he shrugged, eyes glinting wickedly despite the softness of his smile. Shoma fought back a laugh and elbowed him in the ribs.

The flight was too early in the morning and far too long, and a part of Shoma had been hoping that sheer exhaustion would get the better of him at some point so that he wouldn’t find the journey quite so trying, but deep down he had known there were simply some things he wasn’t built for, and smooth air travel was one of them. He fidgeted against the itchy fabric of the airplane blanket and let out a soft, whiney sound from the back of his throat as he tried and failed to get the airline cushion to protect him from the cold rattle of the plane window. Beside him, Yuzuru seemed to have no such problems, looking serene and placid as he curled to one side, happily reading a well-worn paperback, his face squashed lazily against his pillow. As Shoma shivered again, Yuzuru glanced up at him, his expression curious and kind as he watched Shoma tug uselessly at his blanket in an attempt to get it to cover him properly that didn’t succeed. He made a small, sympathetic little sound and Shoma looked up at him, wrinkling his nose and letting out a tiny, sulky groan.  
‘Stop pitying me,’ he huffed and Yuzuru smothered a laugh. ‘I hate flying,’ Shoma added in a mutter, turning himself to face Yuzuru and bringing his knees up to his chest with a sigh as he pulled the blanket up to his nose. Yuzuru smiled, somehow kind and amused at the same time as he regarded the awkward way Shoma had folded himself up into his seat.  
‘You really can’t sleep?’ he asked and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘It’s too cold and too dry and this blanket’s all scratchy. I’m so tired but I just can’t shut it out,’ he said, voice croaky and rough as he rested his chin on his knees, looking at Yuzuru disconsolately. His head ached and his eyes were so sore he had to take slow, sluggish blinks, but Yuzuru’s smile was somehow healing as it widened, lighting his eyes with flecks of gold. ‘How are you not a mess right now?’ Shoma asked him, his frown almost accusatory, and Yuzuru laughed, his expression all affection as he reached across, pressing two fingers to the furrow in Shoma’s brow to smooth it out. Shoma let out a small, contented hum at the feeling, closing his eyes and relaxing just a little.  
‘I keep my mess on the inside, I suppose,’ Yuzuru said gently, withdrawing his hand and sitting back again as Shoma opened his eyes. ‘But today inside is only sunbeams,’ he added with a shrug, and Shoma wrinkled his nose at him.  
‘Urgh, are you drunk on sunlight, Hanyu?’ he grumbled good-naturedly and Yuzuru laughed.  
‘This from the person who uses lightning like a lullaby,’ he replied, smacking lightly at Shoma’s knee. Shoma attempted to glare at him, but his shivering undermined his ability to intimidate and Yuzuru laughed again, a little more softly. ‘Cold?’ he asked, and Shoma nodded. ‘Come here,’ Yuzuru sighed fondly, pushing up the armrest between them. Shoma grinned, quickly clambering across the small space, and Yuzuru took off his jacket, holding out his arm and letting Shoma curl into his side before smoothing the jacket out over his shoulders and letting him burrow into it. Shoma breathed the scent of bergamot and jasmine in deep and let it sooth the stifling dryness that had been plaguing him. ‘Better?’ Yuzuru asked, his fingers stroking lightly along the curve of Shoma’s ear where it peeked out over the collar of the jacket, and Shoma nodded.  
‘So much,’ he mumbled, pulling the jacket up so it covered most of his face, protecting him from the dry air and making him feel ridiculously safe.

He could hear Yuzuru’s heartbeat against his ear, and he shuddered again, this time a content shiver that ran through his whole body, the feeling of lightning zigzagging its way down through his veins. Yuzuru laughed, the sound rumbling and ticklish against Shoma’s cheek, and Shoma closed his eyes, scrunching himself up as tightly as he could. ‘Be honest, Shoma: are you only friends with me for my jackets?’ Yuzuru asked, tucking some of his hair behind his ear and tickling teasingly at his cheek, making Shoma let out a soft, childish whine as he squirmed slightly, retreating further beneath the jacket’s collar.  
‘Well the jackets aren’t as chatty,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru laughed, flicking Shoma’s ear in reprimand.  
‘Sleep,’ he said gently, moving his hand to rest on Shoma’s waist instead, giving it the slightest squeeze, and Shoma smiled, nodding against Yuzuru’s chest.  
‘If you wake me up for anything other than food I will hurt you, Yuzu ,’ he said through a yawn, already feeling himself drifting off even as the sound of Yuzuru’s laughter vibrated against him.  
‘Sho, please, give me some credit: I know you well enough now to take that as a general rule.’

It was clear from the moment they landed that the Foundation’s visit was going to be run like a military operation, and they were met by officials the moment they stepped off the plane. Surprisingly well-rested but still a little groggy, Shoma had simply followed Yuzuru’s quietly composed lead, tugging on his sleeve to get him to slow down as the group made their way through the airport to the private area set aside for their arrival. Yuzuru had shot him a mildly despairing look, but he had fallen into step with him all the same, knocking their hands together and kindly taking the garment bag Shoma was struggling with from him with a fond roll of his eyes. Everyone else was still full of excitable chatter and enthusiasm despite the long fight, and they didn’t seem to find it hard to keep up as the officials shepherded them along a series of travellators, airport security staff attempting to shield them from curious onlookers as they went. Shoma was grateful for Yuzuru’s quiet and his steadier pace; being in amidst all the noise and bustle of an unfamiliar environment made him feel fragile and small, but being next to Yuzuru was like a shield against the chaos, his determined calm unshakable on the surface, even if his lightning prickled a little just below. He cut a path through the room with the force of his presence, stilling the noise in Shoma’s head like it was as easy as breathing.

‘Everything will feel like chaos, until it just feels surreal…and then eventually…it will start to feel like chaos again,’ Yuzuru said as he caught Shoma’s expression, his voice soft as they neared the private room in which they were supposed to get ready. Shoma pulled a face at him, lips pursed into a childish pout.  
‘Do you do a lot of motivational speaking or is this just a temporary sideline you’re looking into? Because I think it needs work before you go full-time,’ he deadpanned, and Yuzuru laughed, smacking him on the arm.  
‘The point is, Shoma: all things will pass, no matter how overwhelming they seem. They don’t have to alter your course if you don’t let them – you are steadfast and stubborn. The sun still shines even behind cloud, remember; you feel overwhelmed, but the clouds will never be enough to change the fact you remain as something steady and bright.’ Shoma sighed, letting out a small whine.  
‘Are you trying to teach me something right now? Because it’s too early.’ He paused, frowning, and Yuzuru shot him an amused, enquiring look. ‘Wait, is it too early? Or is it too late? What time-zone are we even in right now?’ Yuzuru laughed at him gently, handing him one of the garment bags and shaking his head.  
‘Just go get ready, we can worry about your jetlag when you’re in your uniform. Your grip on reality I have given up all hope of fixing.’ Shoma stuck his tongue out at him, biting back a smile when Yuzuru offered him a wink.

It was surreal to take the Foundation’s official summit uniform out of its garment bag and see his name embroidered onto a blazer that looked exactly like ones he’d seen on the news a hundred times before; he remembered the official Foundation visit to an international conference in Japan just a few years earlier, how the pictures and videos of their put-together delegation arriving at the airport in the smart, matching suits had been on every screen, magazine and newspaper for at least a week, and the posters from the event had been inescapably omnipresent when travelling on public transport for the rest of the month. The blazers were a smart, dark navy, the buttons gold and the details picked out in intricate embroidery; the breast pocket bore the Foundation logo, beneath which was each person’s name, flag and power classification. Shoma traced his fingers over the tiny bird embroidered on his, his lips twisted to one side in consideration; it didn’t fit him anymore, he knew. Maybe it never had, but he had always been content with it before – but since spending time with Yuzuru it felt like it had become less of a half-truth and more of an outright lie. Yuzuru had drawn out something in Shoma which was less safe, less clearly defined, and he wasn’t sure what role it was he would be stepping into once he admitted the Healer classification assigned to him wasn’t the right one after all.

It was almost more jarring still to see Yuzuru dressed up in his blazer; like he had simply stepped out from a television screen. He had brushed his hair back down across his forehead, and somehow it had softened his whole face, instantly turning him into the safe, reliable, friendly role model the general public were such suckers for; for a split second, Shoma almost forgot how well he knew him – forgot that his drums sounded in his ears day and night, that he laughed like a hyena at terrible jokes and left bruises on his shins. It was almost like the person Shoma knew had drifted out and someone had put up a screen in front of him, projecting the image of the boy from the headlines onto it where Shoma’s Yuzu had been. For a second Shoma only saw that person who was something other, that fragmented concept of a human. And then Yuzuru looked up at him and smiled that full, ridiculous smile that set off starbursts in his eyes. And he was just Yuzu again; Shoma’s co-conspirator in staying up too late and giver of some of the only hugs Shoma didn’t try to squirm away from.

‘Do I look twelve? I feel like I look twelve,’ Shoma huffed, wrinkling his nose as he ran a hand through his matted fringe and attempting to glare at Yuzuru when he failed to stifle his laugh.  
‘I would have said fifteen, fourteen maybe, if I was being cruel,’ Yuzuru offered with an appeasing nod and a scrunch of his nose that pulled a reluctant laugh out of Shoma.  
‘You think you’re helping? But you’re actually not. Because when I was fourteen I looked eight – so you basically just made it worse.’ Yuzuru rolled his eyes fondly.  
‘Shush, you’re perfect. Cute. Very Shoma. But…I think you need your pin and your ID still,’ he said, reaching over to where Shoma had abandoned his things in a heap beside Yuzuru’s and picking up his jacket. ‘Here, put this on.’ He pulled the lanyard from the jacket pocket and tossed it to Shoma before unpinning the small summit-logo pin and looking up with a bright smile as he beckoned Shoma over.  
‘Why do they put so much effort into this stuff anyway?’ Shoma asked, pulling a face but still obediently stepping closer, letting Yuzuru fuss at smoothing out his blazer, his dainty fingers moving quickly to straighten the lapels and fix the pin into place with a flourish.  
‘Because the Foundation is a brand like any other, Shoma: we have to market ourselves, to people with powers who we want to bring in, to donors whose funds keep us going and to governments whose support we rely on to keep us in the forefront of the Grey Zone efforts.’ Yuzuru shrugged, folding his arms and offering Shoma an impish smile. ‘That, and it’s just aesthetically pleasing if we all match.’ Yuzuru smiled winningly, an exaggerated version of the PR smile that made Shoma have to work not to laugh. ‘Am I aesthetically pleasing enough yet, Shoma, or should I part my hair differently?’ Shoma snorted.  
‘I think the Teacher’s Pet Parting in fine, Yuzu,’ he assured him with a sly smile and Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘At least it’s better than the Human Furball look, huh?’ He reached out then stopped, narrowing his eyes at Shoma, somehow playful and suspicious at the same time. ‘If I fix it will you kick me, Shoma?’ he asked. Shoma shrugged.  
‘I mean…I can’t make any promises that I _won’t_ kick you. But you did let me use you as a pillow for three-quarters of the journey, so I guess I kind of owe you at this point.’ Yuzuru took another step closer and scrunched his face up into an expression of concentration that was almost comical as he reached out to fix Shoma’s hair; Shoma was content to stand and let him fuss over him, knowing he needed the distraction. Yuzuru liked to keep busy before walking into a challenging situation – running over practice questions, fidgeting with his headphone wires and repacking his backpack, anything to keep himself moving.

Shoma yawned, ungraceful and long, and Yuzuru hesitated, pulling his hand back and letting it hover between them for a moment as he tipped his head to one side and regarded Shoma with gentle concern.  
‘You still have a headache, huh?’ he asked softly, and Shoma tried and failed to stifle another yawn as nodded vaguely.  
‘It’s fine; I’ve had worse. Me and travel don’t really get on, you know?’ Yuzuru’s expression was tender and open and he let out a small, sympathetic sound that made Shoma’s lips twitch into a faint smile. When Yuzuru reached up again he touched two fingers lightly to the spot between Shoma’s eyebrows where his headache felt the most intense, and Shoma let his eyes close, taking in a deep breath. Yuzuru pressed a little harder and Shoma hummed softly in response; Yuzuru’s healing power was a quiet, hazy silver, so delicate it was almost white, and Shoma didn’t need to open his eyes to see it because it was strong enough that it glowed behind his eyelids. When Yuzuru withdrew his hand, Shoma’s eyes fluttered slowly open, his breath catching a little as he met Yuzuru’s gaze; he blinked up at him for beat, a little disorientated but suddenly full-up with an overwhelming sense of peace. ‘Did you just…heal jetlag?’ he asked slowly, and Yuzuru smiled at him quietly, his eyes glittering and wild.  
‘I’m good, right?’ he joked and Shoma laughed, rolling his eyes. Yuzuru shrugged. ‘My power’s just stronger around you; I think maybe yours gets mixed in with it somehow…or maybe it’s just something to do with the sensing. I don’t really understand it. But I like it. I feel like there is nothing which can limit me when I’m around you, you know?’ Shoma smiled, soft and slow.  
‘Yeah, I get that,’ he admitted quietly, glancing down. ‘It’s kind of the same for me. Only…it’s less like it’s stronger and more like…it finally knows what to do.’ He looked up at Yuzuru carefully, cheeks hot. ‘You’re like a focal point. Like the gauge or the volume control.’ He shrugged. ‘The direction.’

Yuzuru’s smile was so big it was a miracle it fitted on his face, and Shoma felt his cheeks flush under the force of it; he was the only person Shoma had ever met whose expression could somehow manage to be both silly and profound at the same time, the intensity of feeling in his eyes so bright it seemed to make his whole being glow. Shoma was about to speak – to say something, anything to break the stare the two of them were caught in – when the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them made them both jump. They turned in unison, coming face to face with Tracy, who was looking at them with one eyebrow quirked, a smile which was as suspicious as it was amused on her face.  
‘Well our limpets are ready to go I see,’ she said, eyes flicking between them for a moment before her gaze came to rest on Yuzuru, her smile softening. ‘You know the drill: walk through with security, pop-up press-conference, handshake with officials and then back on the bus with the rest of us. Brian’s going to be with you the whole time, and if they start paying more attention to you than to him then he is going to gently remind them who is actually running things back at HQ, ok?’ Yuzuru nodded and Tracy gave his arm a kind squeeze. ‘I know you’re probably on your last energy reserves, but if you can just keep it going long enough for us to get back to the hotel then it will make your life easier in the long run.’  
‘It’s fine; I’m used to it, right?’ Yuzuru shrugged. Tracy looked at him almost sadly for that, rubbing absently at his arm and letting out a sigh.  
‘Oh, Yuzu,’ she said softly, looking at him in quiet contemplation for a moment before flicking a glance over to Shoma, a smile curving her lips. ‘Whatever you two are whispering about all the time? Keep it up, even if it’s trouble.’ She shrugged, looking into Yuzuru’s face and dipping her head a little to better meet his downturned gaze. ‘I don’t know the why or the how and I have only the faintest clue about the what: but I know there is something going on here, and I’m letting you get away with it, because I see it doing nothing but good for you.’

With another squeeze of Yuzuru’s arm, Tracy straightened and moved away, and Shoma and Yuzuru watched as she headed off to try and chivvy Evgenia only to end up getting suckered into helping her fix her hair. Shoma bit his lip, looking up at Yuzuru cautiously.  
‘Do you think she knows? About our powers? _My_ powers?’ he asked in a small voice. Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘I mean…Tracy can’t sense exactly, but she knows instinctively where something is incomplete or fractured…sort of like you always have, you know?’ Shoma nodded slowly and Yuzuru tipped his head to one side, looking back over at Tracy with a small frown. ‘She’s a stronger Healer than people ever give her credit for; she can’t just heal what is broken or injured, she can also heal something to be more than what it was…something bright she can make brighter, something strong she can make stronger.’ He narrowed his eyes, chewing at his lip for a moment. ‘I think that makes her more aware of the base level of energy in any person or place.’ He smiled slightly then, wrinkling his nose and shooting Shoma a sidelong glance. ‘She also knows me really well. I can’t lie to Tracy, only choose which bits of the truth to tell.’ Shoma smirked.  
‘Like you’re such a good liar to begin with,’ he said, laughing when Yuzuru elbowed him lightly in response.  
‘Hey! I’ve kept your secrets, haven’t I?’ he pouted and Shoma suppressed a smile. ‘Anyway, maybe I don’t lie. But I do a pretty good bluff; I’m good at picking out words which are just enough of the truth. I know what to keep hidden and what to show.’ Shoma’s expression shifted into something more sympathetic, and he leant into Yuzuru slightly, offering him a lopsided smile.  
‘That’s a delicate edge,’ he said softly. Yuzuru looked back at him, something sweet and sad and strangely at peace in his eyes as he shrugged.  
‘If you are given wings you must learn to defy gravity, and to make it seem effortless every time,’ he replied simply. Shoma knocked their hands together gently, hooking their little fingers together.  
‘Hey.’ He nudged Yuzuru more firmly when he didn’t meet his eyes. ‘ _Hey_ , Thunder Boy,’ he said a little more forcefully, and Yuzuru blinked, slowly turning his gaze back to Shoma’s face. ‘You said it yourself, right? The sun is always there, even when you can’t see it; you fly in troubled skies, but there is light at your back, always.’ Yuzuru stared at him for a beat, the smile filtering back into his features like light through a prism.  
‘You think you can hold it?’ he asked, voice hushed and eyes wide, and Shoma smiled timidly, giving him a one-shouldered shrug.  
‘I told you: you’re a focal point. I think I can try, at least.’ Yuzuru’s smile widened, just a little, and he squeezed Shoma’s finger tightly with his own.

Javier had been right to say the scene when they left would be nothing compared to their arrival in Singapore; it was easy to feel the whole world’s eyes were watching as they made their way through arrivals. Fewer people bothered the group Shoma walked with than Yuzuru’s, as the Singaporean officials lead them through a second set of doors behind the real melee – there was a small gaggle of photographers and news crews covering their arrival, and they smiled and nodded politely at them as they passed, taking care to keep walking at an even pace and trying their best to pretend there wasn’t a clamour of noise and commotion going on just a few metres away. Over at the main doors, Yuzuru was hidden away amongst a pack formed of security, officials, Japanese ministry representatives and Brian, and separated from the rest of them by a bank of photographers and press and enthusiastic people clutching camera phones as they squeaked excitedly to one another about catching a glimpse of the Foundation’s prodigy. Shoma couldn’t make out where he was by sight, but he could follow his path based on where the majority of the shouts were coming from; it was another one of those scenes from the news that Shoma had always assumed had to be staged or simply distorted by camera angles, but turned out to somehow be even worse in person.

Shoma walked quickly, keeping his head resolutely down even as the few press who were interested in their group shouted out to them for pictures. It was difficult to reach out to Yuzuru across the chaos, but he was just about managing to hold it on force of will alone; he had to push what normally came naturally to him, and he wanted to get onto the bus as soon as possible so that he could find a spot to stop, close his eyes and take a breath. The walk through the airport crowds was one thing, but when Yuzuru would most need the extra strength was when he was thrust in front of the microphones which awaited him at the planned press conference set up at the far end of the arrivals hall, and Shoma didn’t want to let him down. Yuzuru had been there for him even when he had been shutting him out – it was a debt Yuzuru would never ask him to repay, but he wanted to anyway.

Shoma found a seat near the back of the coach and scrambled into it, ducking his head down in the hope it would stop anyone bothering him and pulling his legs up to his chest so he could curl in and focus. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his knees and taking a deep breath, trying to centre in on the feeling of Yuzuru’s power and to get his own power on an even keel. As soon as he felt Yuzuru’s power reach back, he felt something click inside his chest; his power flared instantly, making his skin feel hot and his ribcage feel full, and he squeezed his eyes more tightly shut as he tried to infuse it with his healing abilities, pushing it and directing it the same way he would when faced with someone’s cuts and bruises, letting the feeling of Yuzuru’s own energy strengthen the connection. He was concentrating so hard that he became almost entirely unaware of his surroundings – instead he felt like he could hear Yuzuru’s voice, the careful, measured sound of him answering questions and the sweet, delicate tone of his polite laughter. Yuzuru’s power was light and cool beneath his own, and it helped him clear his head a little. He drew on his memories: the ridges of Yuzuru’s fingerprints dragging along his cheeks as he held his face in the garden, the soothing way his hands smoothed the jacket over his shoulders on the plane, the dull ache of his elbow against his ribcage, his hands squeezing his waist so lightly it tickled, that smile of his when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug Shoma or kick him. Shoma shivered slightly, hunching his shoulders up higher in an effort to keep hold of the images in his mind; he was vaguely aware of people moving around him, the sounds of them chattering away to each other as they got on to the bus, but he was determined to push it away, to hear only the faint sound of Yuzuru’s voice, winding and weaving through some complicated answer to a question the press had no right to ask him but that he was well-prepared for all the same.  
‘Hey, is Shoma ok?’ someone asked – soft, low, warm, probably Javier.  
‘He’s fine, just tired,’ another voice replied, and Shoma flinched just slightly as he felt someone place a gentle hand on his back, rubbing it reassuringly. The person leant in, and Shoma caught a hint of Satoko’s rose-and-juniper-scented perfume. ‘Whatever you’re doing, I’m going to put your jacket over you so people don’t ask questions and will just think you’re asleep, ok?’ She didn’t wait for a reply; Shoma heard the sound of her rummaging through his things and felt her carefully arranging the jacket over him, tucking it around him and tentatively moving him so he was resting against the window.

Shoma couldn’t be sure how long it was before he felt Yuzuru’s energy draw closer, but he was grateful when he heard Satoko call out to him.  
‘Shoma saved you a seat; I’m just keeping it warm for you.’ Shoma sat up somewhat blearily, opening one eye and regarding Satoko and Yuzuru through a disconnected haze.  
‘Thank you, Satton,’ Yuzuru smiled happily as he appeared from somewhere further down the aisle of the coach, sliding into the spot Satoko had just vacated and knocking softly into Shoma’s body with his own. ‘Hi, Sleepy,’ he greeted, and Shoma offered him a small smile. Satoko was still hovering, standing watching the two of them with her arms folded, eyes bright and knowing as she looked between them thoughtfully.  
‘You know, I can’t sense things, maybe. But sometimes, sometimes when I reach out to try and turn someone’s energy over in my hand, I get the smallest moment where I can feel them, right at the tips of my fingers. Vague, but enough to know I’m not wrong to believe it’s there.’ Yuzuru looked up at her, quirking an eyebrow; he was always attentive to the details others let slip about their powers, and he had a deep respect for the delicate, controlled way Satoko went about using hers.  
‘You are a Warrior who wields her power with wisdom; it’s to be expected you would do more with your power than most,’ he said, tipping his head slightly to one side by way of an invitation for Satoko to go on. She smiled at him – almost mischievous – before shaking her head slightly.  
‘Shoma feels warm and open, like summer. And you, you are all sound and vibration. But the two of you together…it’s like when you look up at the sound of thunder on a clear day, only to see there is already a rainbow in the sky. A trick of the light you want to reach out for but can never truly hold in your hands; stretching up higher, to where only the birds can reach it.’ Satoko shrugged. ‘It’s a secret, right?’ she said, phrasing it like a question but making it clear with her eyes she wasn’t expecting an answer from them. ‘I won’t tell. No one should chase rainbows if they aren’t prepared to accept some things are too bright to be touched by anything but the sky. I know there is more there, though; something connected, important. Just out of reach to me, maybe, but I understand it is there, and it matters. I know there is something more powerful than just power – I can’t say what, but…I will choose to believe in it. I think you both should know that.’

For a moment Yuzuru watched Satoko make her way back to her seat beside Wakaba, his lips pursed ever so slightly as he considered her.  
‘Why do I feel like everyone thinks they know something even I don’t understand yet?’ he said, his brow furrowed in thought, and Shoma smirked.  
‘Because you’re not as clever as you think you are?’ he suggested, and Yuzuru shot him a playful glare, pouting slightly.  
‘Sho,’ he chided, jabbing an elbow into his leg reproachfully, eyes sparkling. ‘I was going to say thank you to you,’ he added then, expression softening a little, and he tipped his head to one side, reaching out to brush at the strands of Shoma’s fringe and letting his finger trace a light path from his forehead to the edge of his face. Shoma let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, humming contentedly at the feeling of it. ‘It is like going from being the embers of who you are to the full flames of a fire; your light is like a spark, even the smallest glimpse and the fire gets high again.’ Shoma smiled tiredly, stifling a yawn.  
‘It’s always fire and thunderstorms with you,’ he mumbled, twisting in his seat slightly to try and rest his head more comfortably.  
‘We can’t all be the quiet of Sunday mornings, Shoma,’ Yuzuru said softly, tugging gently at Shoma’s sleeve to get him to put his head on his shoulder. ‘You should rest; that was a lot of power to put out on so little sleep,’ he added and Shoma nodded into the crook of Yuzuru’s neck, yawning again and burrowing down.  
‘Mm,’ he sighed. ‘How long is the drive?’  
‘Twenty minutes or so, depending on traffic. And when we get there we can go straight to our rooms – the press have had their fill, for now.’  
‘Thanks to you and Brian,’ Shoma pointed out quietly and Yuzuru laughed.  
‘Maybe…but also you, they just don’t know that part,’ he said, nudging Shoma gently. Shoma opened one eye to look up at him and Yuzuru offered him a deceptively sweet smile before pulling his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture of Shoma’s mildly bewildered, half-asleep face.  
‘What was that for?’ he groaned, dropping his head back onto Yuzuru’s shoulder with a slight huff, convinced he was taking another photograph but not feeling awake enough to put up any resistance.  
‘I’m sending it to your brother to let him know you made it…in a state, but you made it at least,’ Yuzuru laughed, resting his head on top of Shoma’s with a happy sigh. ‘He sent me a message asking – it seems only fair to reply.’  
‘Great; now I’m going to have both of you taking pictures of me sleeping on buses. You should open a gallery together,’ Shoma said, elbowing Yuzuru in his side and fighting back a smile when he was met with the buzz of his laugh against him.  
‘Stop being a smart mouth and just sleep, Sho, before I go sit next to Javi instead.’ Shoma let out a small whine of protest.  
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ Yuzuru laughed.  
‘Now who’s the baby, huh?’ he sighed, but Shoma heard the smile in his voice.

When Shoma woke up the next morning, he had no real memory of their arrival at the hotel – the only thing he could remember with any clarity was Yuzuru having to steer him to the door of his hotel room, his head thrown back in laughter as he attempted to negotiate taking charge of both their bags and propping up Shoma whilst trying to open Shoma’s door for him. Outside Shoma’s window daylight was breaking; Singapore’s skyline looked almost as improbable as the Foundation’s, all majestic modern glass and precise, clockwork movement, and for a while Shoma stared out at it, trying to get his mind to catch up with his body and feel arrived in the place before finally giving up and heaving himself upright to start his day.

The hotel dining room was busy, and Shoma winced as he regarded the packed space, not really up for contending with so much noise and commotion so early in the morning, but too hungry to simply back away and hide out in his room until Yuzuru, Satoko or Keiji appeared to force him out into the world. Tourists and business people made up the majority of the crowds around the two buffets, but Shoma could sense a few familiar energies were somewhere close, and he narrowed his eyes, trying to spot any sign of a friendly face.

Yuzuru’s energy was such a constant to him that it actually came as a surprise when someone kicked the back of his legs, laughing brightly beside his ear when he let out a faint yelp. He turned slowly to look back into Yuzuru’s unapologetically happy face, glaring up at him moodily and folding his arms.  
‘Seriously: why are we friends?’ he asked flatly, and Yuzuru flashed him a shameless smile that shouldn’t have made Shoma’s heart constrict the way it did.  
‘And why do you have such an attitude problem, huh?’ Yuzuru shot back, his eyes aglitter and his nose wrinkled in an expression which almost coaxed a smile out of Shoma.  
‘It’s only a problem to people who don’t understand mornings aren’t fun, Yuzu,’ Shoma huffed. ‘And those people? Are people who are wrong.’ Yuzuru beamed, bumping their shoulders and rolling his eyes.  
‘Every time of day is fun when you’re with me,’ he declared, and Shoma pulled a face at him.  
‘Urgh,’ he grumbled. ‘I have no idea why I talk to you.’  
‘Shush and be nice to me: I’m here to save you from the French toast queue,’ Yuzuru smiled, still bright and unbothered despite the morning-roughness of Shoma’s words. ‘Come on, I have a table over here already and I got you more maple syrup than your dentist would ever like to see you with,’ he added with a wink, and Shoma felt a smile finally break through.  
‘Ok, I’m starting to remember why I talk to you; it’s all coming back to me now,’ he nodded slowly. Yuzuru laughed and Shoma shot him a soft, sidelong look from under his fringe. ‘Maybe you get me after all.’  
‘I like to think so,’ Yuzuru agreed, expression silly-happy as he slid into a booth in the corner. Shoma chose the seat opposite him, hiding a smirk when Yuzuru pulled a plate of fruit towards himself and left Shoma to have his pick of the other plates, both heaped with treats from the Asian and Western buffets, one sweet and one savoury.  
‘And suddenly I’m able to forgive you for the new bruises you just added to my collection,’ Shoma said, shooting Yuzuru a sly smile and pulling the sweet plate over to him.  
‘I thought that might happen,’ Yuzuru said, tipping his head to one side with a soft smile. ‘It’s almost like I’m actually a pretty good friend to have, huh?’ Shoma pursed his lips, staring him down for a moment then letting out a small sound of disgruntlement.  
‘You’re such a know-it-all,’ he muttered, shaking his head and hiding a grin by quickly grabbing a fork and tucking in to his food. ‘So, not that I’m complaining but…is you bringing me food going to become a regular deal now?’ he asked through a mouthful of French toast, swiping his thumb along his lips to catch some stray maple syrup. Yuzuru’s eyes twinkled as he looked at him with a faintly despairing sort of fondness.  
‘There is entertainment value in it, so probably,’ he beamed impishly, and then his expression softened a little. ‘Besides, I like doing these things for you. When you smile it makes everything seem a little brighter; because your smiles – your _real_ smiles – are hard-won and precious. It makes them mean something.’ He said it as though it wasn’t far too early in the morning to be being so stupidly sweet, and Shoma gave him a small kick to the shin. Yuzuru met his gaze immediately, and the two of them looked at each other for a moment, their smiles somehow ones of challenge and their eyes glittering.  
‘How do you know the difference between a real smile and a not-real smile anyway?’ Shoma asked, narrowing his eyes just a little. Yuzuru’s smile widened.  
‘Easy: I know your face,’ he shrugged, and Shoma realised he believed him completely and without hesitation, because he had come to feel exactly the same way.

Shoma was about to reply when the moment was shattered by the sound of high, happy voices calling out their names, and Yuzuru’s eyes moved to look over Shoma’s head at something behind him. Shoma turned in his seat and wrinkled his nose when he spotted the source of the noise: a group mostly consisting of Team Japan descending on them with too-bright smiles and too much enthusiasm.  
‘As if you weren’t loud enough on your own first thing in the morning,’ Shoma complained in a whine, and this time it was Yuzuru who kicked him beneath the table, somehow managing to keep the sweet, inviting smile on his face as he waved to the others politely, his head bobbing as he let out a flurry of hellos.

‘I’m so jetlagged I don’t even know what I’m doing awake right now!’ Wakaba declared as she threw herself into the booth with considerable force as the others followed in a more subdued fashion, Kazuki and Satoko taking the seats beside Shoma. Kazuki offered a small, sleepy smile Shoma’s way, and Satoko eyed the array of plates with mild amusement and a fond roll of her eyes.  
‘You wouldn’t be so jetlagged if you hadn’t stayed up half the night watching movies,’ Kaori giggled as she piled in next to Wakaba, who pulled a face at her in reply.  
‘To be fair, we stayed up half the night watching movies too, though,’ Mai said with a small, mischievous smile, squashing next to Kaori and Wakaba rather than taking the spot next to Yuzuru, who she regarded somewhat shyly from the corner of her eye, giving him a tentative wave. He smiled his billion-watt smile back at her and Shoma almost laughed at how quickly the nervousness disappeared from her eyes.  
‘Well who could sleep when all our brains were still on Foundation time, huh? I had no idea what time of day it was supposed to be when we got in, so I just kept going ‘til I collapsed,’ Javier shrugged, taking the spot on Shoma’s other side and reaching over to steal a piece of bacon from his plate. ‘I went with Patrick and the Shibs to go exploring in the city for a little while; just in the places you can get to from the hotel walkways, of course. Although if Brian asks? We were definitely watching movies with you guys.’ Javier grinned shamelessly, and Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘Because he is so likely to believe that, especially when your adventures show up on Alex and Maia’s blog next week,’ he said dryly, popping a mango slice in his mouth to punctuate his point. Javier suppressed a smirk and pulled a face at him. ‘Did _anyone_ actually sleep last night besides me?’ Yuzuru asked then, looking over at Satoko and Kazuki, who both shrugged vaguely.  
‘I’m guessing Shoma did,’ Wakaba laughed. ‘You were basically asleep in the lobby last time I saw you,’ she grinned wickedly, laughing harder when Shoma glowered at her. ‘Did Yuzu have to carry you back to your room like a true hero, or did you make it on your own two feet?’  
‘I rode half the way in the elevator with them, and trust me when I say? It was very much a team effort getting Shoma to his room in one piece…I think there would be a good chance you would have been stuck in there just going up and down all night without Yuzu around, Shoma – he was propping you up with the suitcases when I left,’ Javier said, smiling mischievously and throwing an arm around Shoma’s shoulders. ‘You really don’t like long-haul, huh?’  
‘Does anyone?’ Shoma asked, wrinkling his nose.  
‘Well, he’s got us there,’ Wakaba sighed, slumping a little and resting her chin on her hand.  
‘I like it – it’s exciting,’ Mai put in gently. Yuzuru nodded.  
‘Finally, someone on Team Japan with a positive outlook and good words first thing in the morning,’ he said, and Mai beamed happily with the praise.  
‘I’ll like it more when I’ve had food…unless Shoma ate it all already,’ Kaori offered. Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Why does everyone act like eating and sleeping aren’t legitimate hobbies to have when they basically keep you alive?’ he muttered. Kazuki smiled at him warmly.  
‘I’m on your side, if it helps,’ he shrugged, and Shoma reached across Satoko to bump his fist with a dry smirk.  
‘It would help more if we weren’t outnumbered by the gremlins,’ he remarked as he sat back, gesturing vaguely to the rest of the group and suppressing a laugh when a round of protest went up from all of them, everyone saying his name at once as Yuzuru kicked him yet again and Javier jostled him laughingly.  
‘To be fair, he has warned us all he’s a crappy friend,’ Satoko pointed out, shooting Shoma a wry, fond smile, and Shoma offered her a small smile of his own in return.  
‘Sho is very honest, it’s true. But he is also just a nightmare before midday,’ Yuzuru put in.  
‘Huh, really? Only before midday?’ Wakaba said, faux-sweet as she batted her eyelashes at Shoma, who wrinkled his nose and attempted to glare at both of them.  
‘I’m not talking to either of you any more,’ he said, smothering a grin as Yuzuru and Wakaba laughed and pulled faces at him.

‘Ok, Yuzu, hit me: what exactly is it we’re supposed to even be doing today?’ Wakaba asked then, suddenly sitting up and resting her chin on her hand, nudging at Yuzuru impishly with her elbow.  
‘Huh?’ Yuzuru frowned.  
‘Yeah! What are we supposed to be doing, Yuzuru?’ Kaori chimed, her delicate features knitting into a wince of a frown ‘I mean…I looked at the itinerary but…I don’t think I understood anything on it,’ she admitted, biting her lip and looking somewhat apologetic.  
‘It looked like…a lot,’ Kazuki grimaced.  
‘That’s because it is,’ Javier smiled blithely, shrugging. ‘I’ve lost my copy already, but…I know what these first days usually look like.’  
‘Will we be expected to do much?’ Mai asked nervously, looking to Yuzuru with wide eyes.  
‘Oh, we won’t have to speak much will we? I still remember the European summit – you know, that disastrous one in France? They called on me and I hadn’t prepared anything!’ Wakaba gasped, sitting a little straighter and putting her hands to her blushing cheeks as she stifled an embarrassed giggle. ‘I rambled so much and no one knew what I was talking about, so I went back to Japanese…but even the translator couldn’t understand me!’ She glanced at Yuzuru hopefully. ‘Please tell me I don’t need to go do practice questions…or worse, please don’t make me do practice questions with you, because it’s no fun: your answers are always annoying and perfect and you get crazy-eyes when I get my answers wrong.’  
‘What’s everyone looking at me for with all these questions, huh?’ Yuzuru complained, and Satoko shot him a knowing smile.  
‘Well, you are the most senior member of Team Japan on the trip…’ she said slyly and Shoma stifled a snort, catching Javier’s eye and sharing a small smirk with him.  
‘No I’m not,’ Yuzuru frowned uncertainly, and Shoma watched with amusement as he paused to do a mental roll-call, his frown clearing into a more startled expression. ‘Oh my God…am I?!’ he said then, eyes wide.  
‘I mean…there’s Keiji, but he’s the same age as you, and he doesn’t count anyway,’ Wakaba insisted. Yuzuru pouted.  
‘Why not?’ he demanded. Shoma laughed.  
‘Yuzu: you’ve been at the Foundation the longest, you come on these things all the time and three-quarters of the itinerary is constructed around events specifically giving maximum opportunity for your public to adore you,’ he pointed out wryly, and Yuzuru’s whole face scrunched up in a show of disapproval as he let out a small whine.  
‘Hey, whose side are you on?’ he asked sulkily, and Shoma shot him a shameless grin.  
‘The side that makes that little stress-line appear on your forehead?’ he suggested. Wakaba clapped but Yuzuru didn’t even bother to glare at her, too busy staring Shoma down with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.  
‘Shoma!’ he huffed and Shoma let out a laugh.  
‘See: there it is, right in the middle,’ he replied, laughing harder – high and unreserved – when Yuzuru pursed his lips and shot him a mock-glare that would have been more effective if his eyes hadn’t been sparkling.  
‘Just know, I would so be throwing fruit at your head right now if we weren’t in public.’ Shoma grimaced and Yuzuru’s lips twisted into a small smile as he rolled his eyes at him affectionately. ‘You are trouble,’ he sighed, before glancing back at the rest of the group. ‘Javi is an honorary member of Team Japan: have him be your senior, I have enough responsibilities,’ he told them, and Wakaba shook her head determinedly.  
‘No way: he just said he lost his itinerary already! What use is he?! Come on: spill it, Hanyu,’ she pointed out, and Javier laughed when Yuzuru grumbled.  
‘Fine,’ he sighed, setting down his fork. ‘First is the welcome ceremony at the Singapore Grey Zone Ministry building: presentations, speeches from Brian, me, Singapore’s prime minister and the head of the Grey Zone Relief Committee. We have a meeting with some of the staff from the relief centres, the usual tours around the ministry and some meetings where people talk and we just sit and pretend to listen. Then we go to the school for the kids evacuated from the Grey Zones for a power demonstration, and then a public meet and greet at the Gardens By The Bay. There’ll be more power demonstrations and some talks from research people there, then some of us will have to stay late at the Gardens for this livestream so it can tie in with their usual light show; there’ll be more speeches and power demonstrations and whatever – but the rest of you guys will have free time, I think. I mean, it’s only me, Tessa, Scott, Zhenya and the Shibs they need for the evening so…you’ll all be in the clear,’ he explained, counting off each event on his fingers as he reeled them off.  
‘And is it blazers or jackets?’ Wakaba asked. ‘Please say jackets – my blazer is so stiff and stuffy.’  
‘It’s blazers for the welcome ceremony, then we change back to jackets for everything else,’ Yuzuru replied. ‘Oh, except lunch: we have to go to a charity lunch, and it’s being hosted by Singapore’s president, so a whole bunch of important people are going to be there and we have to be super-formal and remember all sorts of etiquette rules.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘That sounds exhausting,’ he groaned. Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,’ he said sincerely, punctuating the sentiment with a small, sharp shock of lightning that made Shoma look up and met his gaze immediately, smiling somewhat shyly back at the piercing look he gave him and giving a slight shake of his head before turning his eyes down once more.  
‘So much for the rest of us, hey, Yuzu?’ Javier said in a low, knowing voice, and Yuzuru pulled a face at him. Javier simply shrugged, brown eyes full of mischief and a certain smug certainty that Shoma didn’t quite know how to interpret. ‘So much for the rest of the whole wide world, clearly,’ he murmured mostly to himself and Shoma frowned.  
‘So tell us, Sho: how do you get Yuzu to do all these things for you? Get your food and look after you at meetings and make sure you don’t die in elevators? What’s your secret to winning over our fearless leader, huh?’ Wakaba asked in a teasing whine. Shoma shot her a dry smile.  
‘Easy,’ he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink and flicking a brief, glinty-eyed look towards Yuzuru before turning back to Wakaba with a smirk. ‘I’m just really good at blackmail and extortion and he’s terrible for giving me ammunition,’ he offered. ‘Also? I can do this…’ he added, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands. He relaxed his face, making his eyes wide, innocent and lost and forming his mouth into the faintest of pouts, lips slightly parted and eyebrows raised as he blinked slowly.  
‘Aw,’ Mai and Kaori cooed, and Yuzuru let out an undignified snort.  
‘That’s actually pretty good, if I didn’t know you were a terror I would be buying it, for sure,’ Javier chuckled, looking genuinely impressed.  
‘And now I’m a little bit scared of Shoma…’ Kazuki said, blinking somewhat bewilderedly.  
‘It’s cute, I guess,’ Satoko put in, sounding resigned more than anything. ‘But see: this is the real reason why Shoma is so dangerous – he knows how easy it is to trick people into thinking cute is all he is,’ she added, rolling her eyes.  
‘You’re such a useless puppy, huh?’ Yuzuru muttered, trying to suppress a smile and shaking his head. Shoma sat back then, shaking the look away in a second and flashing Wakaba a wicked smile instead, eyes dark and sparkling with mischief.  
‘Works every time,’ he told her smugly, glancing back at Yuzuru with a small, secret smile that Yuzuru answered immediately with a gentle smile of his own. Wakaba huffed, unimpressed.  
‘Whatever: it works on Yuzu, maybe. But not all of us are so soft in the head – I won’t be fooled!’ she remarked, flicking Yuzuru’s temple fondly and laughing when he stuck his tongue out at her in reply.

Yuzuru was – as always – true to his word, and Shoma wasn’t sure how he would have made it through the schedule otherwise. The day was packed with so much potential for socially awkward interaction and embarrassment that a part of Shoma wanted to bolt even with Yuzuru standing beside him, smiling his Competent Professional smile and rubbing his back soothingly out of the view of the cameras; there were endless photograph sessions and more hands to be shaken than Shoma could count, speeches to attempt to stay awake through and moments when some sort of a response was required or a presentation needed to be accepted, and Shoma’s eyes darted somewhat nervously around the room, constantly trying to assess if he needed to be standing or moving or speaking or smiling or more awake than he actually felt. Yuzuru took to quietly prompting him, or entertaining him with offhand comments to distract him from his nerves. The welcome ceremony was one of those events where all the rules seemed to be unspoken, and everyone except Shoma seemed to already know what they were supposed to be doing; Yuzuru stood just behind him for most of it, whispering a soft, steady commentary that calmed Shoma’s panic.  
‘…Ok, so when he’s finished talking, they’re going to ask us to come up one by one for the presentation. You shake his hand first, then the lady next to him, then stop so they can take a photograph…’ Shoma had kept his gaze ahead, trying to keep down a smile against the faint prickle of Yuzuru’s lightning at the point where his hand touched his back and reaching out to it with his own power in silent thanks.

Singapore’s organisation of the event was faultless, and for all that the packed schedule overwhelmed him, Shoma couldn’t help but be impressed at the attention to detail and the scale of effort put into making each activity run smoothly; the power demonstrations and speeches ran like seamless choreography, everything being made to fit around the people who had made the Foundation delegation list as though Singapore had received it a year in advance rather than a couple of weeks. Yuzuru was called upon to play the role he would never admit he was born for; the star and the entertainer, the myth and the hope, all of it full of that indefinable Yuzuru-ness that commanded attention and yet was still strangely unassuming, fire and ice all at once. When his solo duties were over he melted amongst the group once again, slotting himself back in beside Shoma and helping him steady his power whenever it looked like it might not stay within the confines of the task set in front of it. At some point Shoma entirely lost track of what they were even supposed to be doing, blindly following Yuzuru’s lead and trusting him not to trip him up; he had only the faintest grasp on who he was talking to or where they were, but Yuzuru being there made it ok, made it safe to relax just a little, to breathe and to shed some of the awkwardness which would normally make him feel hemmed in and stifled in these kinds of situations. Yuzuru smiled at him every now and again, soft and understanding, starting up their own secret conversations whenever they got a moment – finding ways to make Shoma laugh and drawing him out of his shell just a little when people from the committees and ministries and who-knew-what-else came over for chatter or more fluff-shots for the cameras.

By the time they were done with their meet and greet at the Gardens, the sun was setting and Shoma was exhausted; he gazed up sleepily at the shimmering lights of the artificial trees and the lilac-smoke colouring of the sky above, and for a moment he felt entirely disconnected, like he’d been dropped into some other life that wasn’t his own. And then he felt Yuzuru’s hand on his back again. He turned with a sleepy smile to look up into his face – his silly, delightful face, lit up in ethereal blues and fairy pinks by the lights of the artificial trees above. He took in the way Yuzuru’s dark eyes sparkled with that wild sort of intensity that seemed to almost define him, and he felt the pleasant, warm weight of him as he leant into his side – and just like that he was pulled back down, reconnected with his own skin and weighted back in the moment, as magical and surreal as it might have seemed.

‘Does anyone know what time it is? My phone died.’ Shoma glanced back towards Wakaba as she threw her backpack over her shoulder and hauled her garment bag and tote laden with gifts from the meet and greet ungracefully through the main doors of their hotel.  
‘It’s half-past-how-are-you-still-awake,’ he grumbled, nodding vaguely to the smiley doorman and shuffling towards the escalators up to the lobby. ‘We’ve been out since stupidly early and we haven’t eaten since lunch; this is torture.’  
‘Cheer up, Sho – it could be worse. The guys we left at the Gardens still have to do a whole other event before they can let loose and enjoy the city. The US ministry were trying so hard to get me added to the bill; I was so relieved when Brian put his foot down, because I have no idea how the others cope at all. I’m beat,’ Nathan sighed.  
‘Yeah, and Yuzu’s been on the go since before any of us – meeting people and talking with Brian and who knows what else. I really don’t know where he finds the energy, my cheeks ache from smiling politely all day!’ Kaori offered.  
‘Oh, Yuzu has his ways,’ Shoma muttered, slumping against the escalator banister and hiding a smile. ‘Like sapping the life force out of those around him for a start.’  
‘Yuzu is so clever and kind; I’m so glad we get to be here with him to look out for us. He smiled at all my answers at the Q and A at the meet and greet, even the ones I messed up, and he even told me where to stand and which camera to look at. I was so embarrassed but he made it feel like I was just winning people over – I don’t think I would be able to do that if I’d have had as little time off as him…although maybe I’d try to, because being kind is always the best option to aim for,’ Boyang grinned, and Shoma smirked slightly, rolling his eyes as he briefly lifted his head to look down at him.  
‘Why are you so weird?’ he asked and Boyang shrugged.  
‘What? It’s just the truth,’ he smiled. Shoma laughed and flopped back down.  
‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about, you know; you might’ve felt embarrassed, but the crowd really took to you,’ Keiji said. ‘I haven’t ever seen a crowd take to new faces the way they took to you guys today – you and Nathan too,’ he added, giving Shoma a small nudge. ‘Even Yuzu had a hard time at his first one of these: people weren’t sure how they felt about him being put forward ahead of guys like Javi and Patrick and Dai, you know? They didn’t think it was fair, power or not, to suddenly be treating him like he was the star of the show – as if he had a choice about how it went down.’  
‘Well people can feel free not to take to me if they want,’ Shoma groaned, burying his face in his arms ‘I want my bed back. And regular meal times. And no more meeting strangers in front of cameras.’  
‘Sho, try smiling, would you? And don’t slouch like that; you’re going to fall and get eaten alive by the top of the escalator,’ Wakaba chided, turning around to smack him on the head.  
‘No, I’ll just trip over you when _you_ fall and get eaten alive by the top of the escalator because you were busy tormenting me instead of looking where you were going,’ Shoma shot back through a yawn, pushing himself upright and rubbing at his eyes. Wakaba stuck her tongue out at him then quickly spun back around just in time to gracefully skip off the end of the escalator with a pointed flourish, and Shoma half-stumbled after her. When she and Kaori laughed he pulled a face. ‘Shut up,’ he huffed, glancing over at Mai, who was valiantly attempting to stifle a laugh of her own as she looked at him somewhat apologetically. ‘It’s fine: mock me. It’s basically my main role in our group at this point,’ he sighed, rolling his eyes but smiling slightly despite himself. Mai’s smile was sweet and small and she leant in to quickly squeeze his shoulders.  
‘I don’t think that’s your role,’ she said sincerely.  
‘No, we also like using you to get Yuzu to actually spend time with us too,’ Wakaba giggled, looking only mildly chagrined when Satoko gave her a small, playful smack on the arm.  
‘He’d spend more time with you if you weren’t actual demons,’ Shoma said, eyes glinting wickedly, and Wakaba gasped in mock offence.  
‘Did he really tell you this, Shoma? Because if he did I’ll kick him when I see him, and I will tell him who the real demon is around here!’  
‘Careful, you’re starting to sound like Kana,’ Keiji smirked.  
‘I’ll tell her you said that,’ Shoma said archly, and Keiji glared at him, giving him an elbow in the side.  
‘Hey, you should be nice to the guy who has been keeping you company whilst you’ve been busy pining away for Yuzu,’ he said, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘All I said was I wished he was coming back with us because he got given the good snacks; how is that pining?!’  
‘Aw, but you obviously miss him – look at your sad little face and your big puppy-dog eyes, huh? Are you miserable without your Yuzu?’ Wakaba wheedled, sharing a conspiratorial giggle with Kaori, and Shoma shot them a glare.  
‘You know there’s, like, a lot of levels between “not bouncing off the walls” and “pure loneliness and misery”, right?’ he told them darkly, but they only giggled harder.  
‘To be fair, man, you have kinda monopolised the Hanyu Magic all day: did you guys make a pact to have each other’s backs the whole trip or what?’ Nathan put in and Shoma pulled a face at him.  
‘Oh, something like that, for sure,’ Javier offered unhelpfully, putting an arm around Shoma’s shoulders. His eyes twinkly as he looked at him with a bright smile. Shoma shifted uncomfortably. ‘You care to share, Shoma?’ Javier asked, impish and light, and Shoma rolled his eyes at him.  
‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Like…most of the time, honestly,’ he said blankly, and Javier laughed, bright, rough and unbothered.  
‘Oh, but I saw your little secret handshake on the bus the other day when you two thought no one was looking,’ he grinned, waggling his eyebrows teasingly. ‘It sure looked like some sort of a pact to me, anyway.’  
‘You and Yuzu have a secret handshake?!’ Boyang asked, wide-eyed, and Shoma winced.  
‘Not really; I was half asleep at the time,’ he protested.  
‘Sure. That’s why you both did it again on the bus today,’ Javier said with a grin.  
‘Oh! And I think I saw it too! When we were about to walk into the welcome ceremony!’ Wakaba cried, clapping her hands together, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘So?!’ he asked, part-moan and part-laugh.  
‘So, Yuzu doesn’t really do secret pacts with people – he’s a lone wolf when he walks into the battle that is an international summit,’ Keiji shrugged.  
‘Exactly. And also? He’s usually terrible at any sort of hand trick,’ Javier nodded. ‘He rushes ahead and puts the wrong move in at the wrong time then starts laughing like a lunatic.’  
‘He’s a headache of a person,’ Keiji agreed, strangely fond, glancing at Shoma with a small smirk. ‘But then so are you, I guess,’ he added, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh.

The Foundation party were starting to clutter up the lobby, gathering in every available space making plans, and Shoma could feel the buzz of excitement coming off them all in waves; it had a strangely sapping effect on him and he closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying to put up the guards he had let down when Yuzuru had been acting as a welcome buffer for most of the day.  
‘Hey, Shoma: eyes open!’ Wakaba said mischievously, and Shoma groaned.  
‘What? What now?’ he whined. ‘Leave me alone to die already!’  
‘Stop being so melodramatic,’ Keiji laughed. ‘We leave you without food for a couple of hours and you turn into an ogre.’  
‘No, stop insulting me when I’m weak: I’m too tired to fight back,’ Shoma pouted. ‘How about I just throw out some words at random and you can string them together in an insult of your choice?’ he offered ‘My brain really can’t take anything else right now.’ Javier let out a snort.  
‘A whole day with Yuzu will do that to you,’ he joked and Shoma shot him a curious sidelong glance. ‘Hey, I’ve said worse to his face,’ Javier shrugged brightly, an impish gleam in his eyes as he winked at Shoma slyly. ‘You know this, though, right? He likes some attitude in his friends.’ Shoma suppressed a smile.  
‘What I want to know, Shoma, is how you can be in such a bad mood when we have a whole night to explore Singapore,’ Kaori sighed with fond frustration, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘I’m not in a bad mood, I just don’t want to go be a tourist when I’m tired and have been around people all day already,’ he shrugged.  
‘Your “not in a bad mood” is most people’s “the end is near” though, you know? So it’s kinda hard to tell,’ Nathan joked. Shoma pulled a face at him.  
‘I preferred you when you had your headphones on all the time – our friendship was stronger in those days,’ he said dryly and Nathan laughed.  
‘Sorry, Sho, no can do: I’m too hyped up on new-city adrenaline.’  
‘You should cheer up and come out with me, Shoma!’ Boyang offered. ‘Me, Han and Misha are going to the night safari at the zoo,’ he beamed, bouncing slightly and making Shoma laugh. ‘They’re coming with me on condition we do something they want tomorrow, but I think it’s going to be way cooler than they know.’  
‘Oh, that actually sounds so fun! What time is it? Do you think Zhenya will have time to come after she’s done with the livestream?’ Wakaba asked, pulling out her phone. ‘I’m looking it up and then I’m messaging her,’ she declared firmly. ‘Satton, you should come too; we can go get food whilst we wait for Zhenya?’  
‘Sorry, I’m meeting Jason and some of the others for food and a little tour of the city,’ Satoko said, shaking her head.  
‘And don’t look at me: I’m as wiped as Shoma,’ Keiji offered.  
‘No one is as wiped as Shoma,’ Shoma put in and Keiji rolled his eyes at him.  
‘I’ll come, Waka,’ Kaori offered brightly, but Mai looked vaguely put out.  
‘I thought we were going to go on the Singapore Flyer; if you don’t come with me I’ll have no one to go with, everyone else has made plans,’ she said sadly.  
‘I’ll go with you,’ Nathan offered warmly, and Mai’s face was flooded with a bright smile.  
‘Really?!’ she squeaked. Nathan smiled lopsidedly back at her, ruffling self-consciously at his curls and nodding.  
‘Sure…I mean, I was going out for food with Ash and Adam, but they want to go late night shopping and, honestly, it’s really not my scene…they’re both crazy intense when they get near any kind of retail environment and I’m pretty sure they only want me to come help them carry the bags.’ Mai clapped, eyes bright and sparkling sweetly.  
‘You won’t regret it; the view of the city at night is going to be so pretty from up there!’ she enthused.  
‘Well, I’ve got to go grab some stuff from the shops across the road; the Shibs said they’ll come meet Patrick and me for dinner after the livestream, and I don’t want to mess them around if they’re tired,’ Javier smiled, before glancing back at Shoma and giving him a small nudge. ‘I could get you something whilst I’m out, if you like? To tide you over? I mean, I’m guessing you’ll be holding out for Yuzu’s company, right?’ he asked, and Shoma shrugged.  
‘Actually my main plan was to hold out for gaming until I passed out, honestly,’ he said through a yawn. ‘And the passing out part is the part I’m most looking forward to right now.’ He shook his hair out of his eyes and looked up into Javier’s sceptical face, gaze wide and placid. ‘You can choose to not believe me all you like, but I’m still my own person: I’m not going to let anyone tie up everything about me in someone else, no matter how much that person means to me.’  
‘And he does? Mean something to you?’ Javier asked seriously, and Shoma frowned up at him, wondering what it was Javier was trying to work out and not wanting to stumble unwittingly into some sort of trick question.  
‘Of course. He’s…kind of one of the best people I know…’ He shrugged. ‘But he isn’t me. And I’m not him. My path is my own and that’s the only thing I can ever be sure of. I don’t care what the papers might think about him and his reputation: there are still no promises or secrets more important than me knowing where I’m going – not even Yuzuru Hanyu’s.’  
‘So…you and him…’ Javier said, lowering his voice so the rest of the group couldn’t hear. Shoma’s frown deepened.  
‘We’re not fighting if that’s what you’re asking. I just…don’t know if I’ll see him tonight…’ he said slowly. Javier studied him for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something more but thought better of it.  
‘Of course. That’s fine,’ he smiled, ruffling Shoma’s hair. ‘I just thought…well, it’s your first summit, you know? I expected you might be more excited to go look around unless you had a better offer.’  
‘Sleep _is_ the better offer,’ Shoma insisted, and Javier nodded slowly. Shoma shot him an odd look. ‘Has Yuzu not filled you in on how little I like going out? Like, ever?’ Javier laughed.  
‘Oh, Yuzu has filled me in on so much about you…and yet so little at the same time. It is odd, no? But then he is a hermit too, so maybe this slipped his mind,’ he smiled, giving Shoma’s arm a small bump with his first before nodding over at Patrick, who was hovering expectantly just across from them. ‘I will see you around, Little Guy,’ he told Shoma as he stepped away, and Shoma wrinkled his nose at him.  
‘Call me that again and I will break everything you love,’ he muttered with a small glower, and Javier simply smiled at him, a wicked glint in his eyes as he winked and walked away, waving casually back at the group as he went.

When Shoma got to his room he made a beeline for the bed, falling onto it face first and letting out the breath he felt he’d been holding almost all day. Being around so many new people in so many unfamiliar environments was an effort for him; with Yuzuru’s help, he was getting good at fronting it out, but it drained his energy immensely to hold it together, and the bubbling energy of their own group hadn’t made things easier, buzzing on the edge of his consciousness and drowning out the fainter-than-usual sound of Yuzuru’s drums as they had headed back to the hotel without him. Shoma rolled onto his back with a huff and stared up at the ceiling; he felt tired but not quite tired enough, heavy-limbed but not as anchored into the moment as he had felt earlier with Yuzuru. He pushed away the thought, not entirely sure he was ready to process the implications of it, and rolled over to the edge of the bed, stretching to tug his suitcase a little closer to him from where it was lying open beneath the window. He rummaged around in it blindly for a moment before finally locating his phone charger and crawling back up the bed to plug it in. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the light when he’d come in, and the room was lit entirely by the dreamlike glow of Singapore’s sunset skyline, which cast the room in blushes of orange, pink and purple, the shadows dancing a little, unreal and hazy. Whilst he waited for his phone to come back to life, he let himself zone out, eyes unfocused and mind quiet; a sudden shiver ran down his spine and he almost smiled, closing his eyes against the sensation of a lightning strike which lit up behind his eyelids. Somewhere across the city, Yuzuru had clearly just sent a burst of his power out into the world. 

He was almost drifting off to sleep when his phone buzzed in his hand, and looked down at it like he’d never seen it before in his life; he blinked, trying to refocus his eyes and remember himself as he stared down at the message in front of him, frowning in mild confusion: it was Itsuki, declaring “Alright I’ll admit it: your new best friend is pretty cool” in such a way that implied Shoma should know what he was talking about, but all Shoma could do was roll his eyes at the hint of a whine he could detect in the words. He settled on sending back “If you’re talking about Yuzu, then he’s actually a total dork. But why do you care all of a sudden?” and pushed back the covers of the bed to cocoon himself in them, shivering against the soft swoosh of the air conditioning. Itsuki’s reply was almost instant and mildly incredulous: “Seriously? You didn’t just watch the firework show he put on?” he asked, following it up with a string of outraged emojis that made Shoma roll his eyes. He sighed, typing “No. You did?!” and laughing when Itsuki shot back an “Of course!” in record time, followed by “The livestream was broadcast on TV here. Mum and Dad want to adopt him. Pretty sure I’m being disowned for being a boring non-power-haver and not making any cool famous friends” and, after a small pause, “You’ve been on all the news reports today and people online are talking about you. It’s super weird. I guess I get why you’re so protective of what you say about Yuzu now, you know?” and Shoma couldn’t help but smile at the defensive affection behind the complaint. Before he could needle Itsuki on the point, another message came in, linking to a video of the livestream. “You should watch it. I know you see him all the time and stuff…but maybe you should see it from the other side for once. It’s pretty special. I never realised how big a deal he was, I guess.”

Shoma chewed at his lip, staring down at the play button on the video with a strangely intense feeling of trepidation. He was intrigued to see Yuzuru work his magic; he loved to watch him conjure, to see the way he played with energy like it was a piece of thread in the air in front of him, twisting the elements with his fingers full of dancer’s grace, his gaze intent and his smile dangerous as he breathed out magic, like his body was pure power. But that was also part of the problem; he was used to watching Yuzuru’s magic from a front row seat, often in front of the others in sessions, but also one-on-one in the privacy of the garden, when Shoma was sitting close enough that the static of the energy in the air raised goosebumps up and down his arms and ruffled his hair like a summer breeze. Yuzuru wasn’t Shoma’s property any more than he was the world’s. But unlike the world, Shoma knew what it felt like, knew what it was like to have Yuzuru want to be entirely yours, to have the full force of his focus and attention and to have his power dance down your spine. And Shoma recognised that feeling of it to his very bones, felt every cell in his body come alive every time the sensation crept up on him. Shoma knew what it was to have Yuzuru throw away everything else and just be present with you, knew what it was like to have him dig his chin into your shoulder and yank forcefully on your arm to pull you in, knew how loudly he sang along to his favourite songs and that he had at least eight different kinds of laugh – Shoma knew the person who could trip over his own feet with excitement just as well as the person who could make it rain fireworks in the palm of his hand. It provoked a fierceness in him that he didn’t really understand or know what to do with; Yuzuru wasn’t his, never could be his, but there was _a_ Yuzuru who treated him like he belonged by his side. Yuzu. Thunder Boy. Nightmare. A person who talked to butterflies like they understood him and who made soft noises of sympathy when Shoma complained to him about ridiculous, insignificant things. Someone who smelt of bergamot and jasmine and was terrible at saying the word “No” when people asked a favour of him. The person who was always there when Shoma needed an ear to listen or a shoulder to lie on, or just an hour of silence where he wasn’t actually alone. A person who put up with his brother and told him terrible jokes and was all elbows and wild hand gestures. That person didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders; no destiny to fulfil, no grand plan of the universe’s to live up to. Whatever power that person had – and whatever power Shoma had – was part of their time together, but it meant nothing more than any other personality trait, just another thing that made them who they were and made who they were make sense together. But the person in the video meant…almost nothing other than power. Power and the hope of millions – distant, ethereal, other, something untouchable and unreachable and unknowable, because he had to be in order to stand a chance of living up to the legends which surrounded him.

Hesitantly, Shoma pressed play, skimming past Scott, Tessa, the Shibutanis and Evgenia and straight through to the final segment; Yuzuru was billed as the highlight of the whole event, his very presence the coup the Singapore government had managed to pull off. It was a deft marketing ploy; Shoma didn’t blame them for using Yuzuru like that, and Yuzuru was more than used to it, but that didn’t mean Shoma had to like it entirely, didn’t mean he had to ignore the discomfort the idea made him feel.

‘…and of course what is most important to all of us at the Foundation, is that we must put all our heart and effort into giving areas affected by the Grey Zone problem some piece of the magic we have been blessed with knowing within ourselves. We know we are fortunate, to be able to carry something which can give hope inside us all the time – power is a gift which allows us all to remember the magic in the world we might otherwise take for granted, things which can easily be neglected when one cannot conjure them. Happy memories, the sound of someone’s laugh, even a simple, quiet moment with a friend when we feel too tired to speak: these times of feeling and of emotion are the most powerful things at all of our fingertips in life, and the true tragedy of Grey Zones is that they take away such profound, magical things which should be accessible to all of us regardless of whether we were born with power or not. Colour is the most universal power of all, and it is something which should belong to everyone – it is my deepest hope that one day it will again. At the Foundation For The Preservation Of Colour And Creativity, we have come to feel we are bound together with many deep, important principles which go beyond what our powers may be, but the most important of all of these principles is this: power is there only to increase the magic available to the universe, we must never be selfish with it or take it for granted, and instead we must see it as our duty, as people who know what it is like to feel magic at our fingertips, to make sure all people realise magic is at their fingertips too.’

Shoma watched with a soft, proud smile as Yuzuru nodded politely at the expected applause; he’d heard the words a hundred or more times over the past week, muttered under Yuzuru’s breath and whined out petulantly after a mistake halfway through, delivered in a revision-rough whisper and mumbled into his shoulder at three in the morning when Yuzuru thought Shoma was already asleep, the words all vibration against Shoma’s skin as they tickled him slightly through the fabric of his sleeve. But this was the first time Shoma had heard the speech given with such decisive calm, Yuzuru’s expression genuine and earnest and almost – _almost_ – the Yuzuru Shoma knew. This was still the crowd’s Yuzuru, the public’s Yuzuru: the showman, the myth, the newspaper front page. But he was also the kid whose parents barely remembered him. The child who’d watched a girl summon petals with a smile and decided he wanted to do it too. The dark-eyed daydreamer who stared up at the garden’s conjured sky and summoned wispy dusks into it by force of will, just because he liked the way it made Shoma smile. It was more of him than the public usually saw, and in that moment he was Shoma’s and not Shoma’s, off in his own category just like always. Known and unknown at the same time, there and not there, impossible but strangely real; indefinable, even though people always kept trying to force him into being defined. Shoma felt a pang of guilt; he worried his jealousy at seeing the rest of the world take its piece of him was making him into just another person who looked at Yuzuru and expected him to fulfil a label, like being everything wasn’t enough, and he hated the very thought.

The power demonstration was more of a show than what they would usually do, designed and choreographed and tailored to make the event aesthetically pleasing and unusual enough to justify the worldwide broadcast. There was an immense ache of feeling in Shoma’s chest as he watched Yuzuru’s expression change from sweet, polite and unassuming into pure, undiluted storm; his heart was somewhere in his throat, his breathing fast and shallow from anticipation and something else he couldn’t quite place. He caught the twist of Yuzuru’s lips, saw the moment his power came to the surface, saw it shine in his eyes. The crowd gasped and cooed and Yuzuru was set alight by it; Shoma watched him conjure flowers and fireworks and miniature petal rainstorms, watched him twirl a conjured swirl of butterflies into a breeze of feathers which flew out into the night and transformed back into butterflies as they soared, dancing above the crowd before disappearing in a hail of sparks. And then Shoma saw him hold out his hands in front of him, palms up and eyes intent; a small, glowing bundle of light hovered there, growing brighter and brighter until slowly he brought his hands up and opened his arms wider, the size of the conjured light increasing. It was beautiful and powerful and breath-taking, but to Shoma it was electric; he could see in it what no one else could, the hazy film of emotion and memories which danced across the surface of the shape, slowly carving it out into the form of two gold, feathered wings. Then, with a deft, sudden movement, Yuzuru clapped his hands together and the shape burst out into an explosion of petals of every colour imaginable; he brought his fingers to his lips like he was blowing a kiss, and when he breathed out the petals seemed to shimmer and glow before blowing up and out and off in every direction, flying high into the sky until they had all drifted away out of sight. That was what Shoma had felt from all the way across the city; Yuzuru had put almost everything he had into creating something infused not just with magic, but with hope – and he had sent it out on a breeze which might just carry it as far as Singapore’s Grey Zones, and maybe remind someone, somewhere that they weren’t alone.

Suddenly wide awake, Shoma felt desperate – felt like he needed to see him, to touch him, to reach out and smooth the ragged edges from his energy; he needed the reminder he was real, and Yuzuru needed the reminder he was enough. He pulled up Yuzuru’s chat window, sending him a simple “Are you back yet?” and chewing anxiously at his lip as he waited for the reply. He didn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes when, just a couple of moments later, Yuzuru sent back a “Sense for yourself” that was accompanied by a small, electric kick to the inside of Shoma’s skull that made him shiver. Shoma huffed and replied “You really have to stop doing that” before closing his eyes and dutifully letting his power stretch out, smiling a little to himself when he felt the familiar sensation of Yuzuru’s thunder crackling over his skin in the way it only did when he was close. A message came in a second later saying “Meet me on the roof?” and Shoma had to work not to grin. His chest felt full and his breath caught oddly in his throat; he worked to push the feeling down, shaking his head slightly before blowing out a calming breath and getting up from the bed. He knew his hair was a state, and he was still in the same clothes he’d been in all afternoon, but Yuzuru wouldn’t care – Yuzuru’s friendship had been won in ratty t-shirts and scuffed shoes and he had decided he wanted to know him even with his tangled fringe and atrocious organisation. Shoma couldn’t bring himself to waste time worrying about any of it: he just wanted to be close to him again, as soon as possible. He needed to hear Yuzuru’s hoarse, silly laughter and feel the weight of him leaning into his shoulder, see the little creases at the corners of his eyes and the way he twisted his lips into a tired half-smile, he wanted the feeling of his bones which were just that bit too close to his skin, and the frightening harshness of his breathing when he talked too fast; he wanted to know him as flesh and blood again, because he wanted desperately to dispel the curious, unsettling ghost of the superstar picked out in pixels on his phone screen. 

The roof terrace was actually on a floor below Shoma’s room, on one of the middle levels of the tiered building; Shoma took a moment in the lift to close his eyes and clear his head, trying to shake off the strange tension that watching the clip of the livestream had brought over him. The hum and vibration of the lift’s descent jarred at the back of his head and he sighed, frustrated, running a hand through his mussed hair and staring at the floor-indicator impatiently. It was welcome relief to step out into the fresh air of the terrace; the evening was crisp and cool against his skin and there was a faint breeze ruffling his hair. The space was hazy and calm, and it was pleasant, refreshing after such a frantic day; a small group of tourists were sitting in one corner enjoying drinks from the bar inside, but they were talking in that hushed, gentle way that people did as the day turned into night, respectful of the spell being cast by the dreamlike light and the soft, distant murmur of the city all around them. It was a space which felt both set away from and firmly part of the world – the city rose up around it but didn’t touch it, and it made Shoma feel safe, unknotting him a little more.

Yuzuru stood – as he so often did – apart from everything, leaning against the railing at the edge of the terrace and gazing out towards where Singapore’s glass and glimmer met the sea, his stare faraway and his body gentler than usual, something weary in the way he moved his head, like it was too heavy for him to keep holding it up. Shoma wasn’t sure why, but when he spotted him his breath caught slightly – something about the way the city lights played off his profile and the softness of his features as he was caught unawares, the slow, lazy way his eyes scanned the skyline, like he’d been put in slow-motion, gaze dark and eyelids heavy. His energy was quieter than usual, humming and winding and wistful, and before he’d crossed the gap between them, Shoma found his power had already reached out almost instinctively, drawn to him just like always. Shoma smiled slightly as he saw the moment Yuzuru sensed it, and his chest felt tight to see the soft curve of the smile it put on his face; there was something sweet and touching about the gentle, genuine happiness in the expression, the way it seemed to light him up. It was Yuzuru, but in watercolour.

‘You know, I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using our powers like Find My iPhone, Yuzu,’ Shoma said, his smile sly but his tone gentle as he came up to join Yuzuru at the terrace wall, standing just a little too close so that their shoulders knocked together in their traditional silent hello. Yuzuru bumped him back, shooting him a sidelong smile, something bright and happy dancing in his eyes.  
‘You still did it though,’ he pointed out, and Shoma rolled his eyes, stifling a smile and resting his chin on his arms, gazing out at the city.  
‘I guess I just thought you might need a friend,’ he said quietly after a moment, glancing up at Yuzuru again. ‘You were thinking of home, right? Your family?’ he added then, his voice hushed as he leant in a little more. Yuzuru’s smile turned sad as he looked down, nodding slowly and letting out a long sigh.  
‘Singapore isn’t Japan – not at all. But it’s the closest I’ve been to home in a long time, so it almost reminds me of home maybe…of how it used to be. And then there are the places here who are also losing hope and losing magic – losing colour and belief. I know what that does to people, to a place…I know how that feels inside.’ He shrugged, listless and sad, and Shoma leant against him slightly, pushing just enough to let him know he understood. ‘I wish I could give enough to bring all of them hope – to tell the people back home I haven’t forgotten them. I know it will take more, for what is broken to un-break. But for now…I wish it was enough to make them remember even just a piece of what has been lost, you know?’ He rolled his eyes, turning them up towards the sky as he took a deep breath. ‘But I don’t have enough power to send the petals all the way back home – I can only trust the breeze will carry them far enough that they will do some good somewhere, and that that good might one day get back to where my heart wanted it to be.’

Shoma blinked slowly up at Yuzuru for a moment, studying the lost expression on his face and feeling the ache of it deep inside his chest; the heaviness of every responsibility ever placed on him had settled into the air around him, pulling down his spirit and stifling his usual brightness, and Shoma wanted to cast it off, to send it away in a storm of shooting stars the way they would in the garden. He glanced back over his shoulder, making sure the small group of tourists in the corner still had their backs to them before standing up a little straighter and bumping his shoulder into Yuzuru’s. When Yuzuru looked over at him questioningly, Shoma offered him a small, sympathetic smile, an almost impish light dancing in his eyes as he laid out his hand between them, quirking an eyebrow at Yuzuru invitingly. For a moment Yuzuru simply stared at him, curious and quiet and intent, and Shoma nudged him with his shoulder again, rolling his eyes slightly.  
‘Maybe you don’t have enough power on your own. But you’re not on your own, Yuzu. Not this time,’ he shrugged.

Yuzuru’s smile was slow but full, his lips twitching ever so slightly but his eyes glittering with the light of a whole galaxy. It was possible to see the universe that lived in him when his eyes came alive like that; to catch a glimpse of every side of him, the possibilities that lived in him but also the fractures and the chaos and the infectious, raw enthusiasm. His gaze wandered down to Shoma’s wrist, and Shoma recognised the pattern he traced with his eyes; he could see them moving across the gold lines and he held his breath, waiting for Yuzuru’s finger to follow the same path. When he did finally move it was just as slow, careful and delicate as he touched two fingers to Shoma’s power mark, and Shoma shivered slightly at the feeling of pure electricity grazing his wrist and working its way through his whole system. Yuzuru’s smile twisted into one of pure, childlike wonder, and Shoma realised he had only ever seen that when it was just the two of them like this.  
‘Hmm,’ Yuzuru half-sighed. ‘Sunlight tends to always find a way in through the cracks, I guess,’ he murmured, his touch so light it tickled slightly, and Shoma’s smile turned almost shy as he ducked his gaze, watching the path of Yuzuru’s fingers more intently than he needed to. ‘It gives to all equally; sure and steadfast and without judgement or hesitation. Even to those who no longer believe in its colour, it gives them the same warmth on their skin as it did when they still dreamed.’  
‘Then maybe you should see what happens when you give it wings,’ Shoma said, his voice small and tight as he looked timidly up into Yuzuru’s face. For a heartbeat he was back in that moment when Yuzuru had first noticed his power mark; cool, graceful fingers wrapping around his wrist and the feeling of Yuzuru being an unknown quantity. And then Yuzuru looked up, meeting his eyes, and the full force of how well Shoma had come to know him flooded back in. There was a glint in those eyes that Shoma recognised – the beginnings of the dangerous, lightning smile – and Shoma had no choice but to smile back, almost laughing at the fizz of Yuzuru’s energy already reaching out determinedly for his own. 

Shoma rolled his eyes slightly, pulling his arm out of Yuzuru’s fingers and presenting him with his outstretched hand once more, and Yuzuru laughed slightly, lacing their fingers together immediately, fierce and firm as he tugged Shoma flush against his side. Shoma elbowed him and Yuzuru pulled a face which was part reckless dismissal and part hopeless apology before pulling roughly at Shoma's hand again, holding it over his heart as he closed his eyes and focused in. Shoma straightened a little as he felt the low swell and drag of Yuzuru’s power clutching at his own, like an anchor being raked along the sea floor in a storm, and he glanced up at Yuzuru’s face, looking with fascination at the deceptive calm there. His head was bowed slightly as he took a deep breath, but Shoma could feel the building electricity in the air and he held his breath in anticipation. It was still something of a shock when Yuzuru’s eyes opened again, black and fierce and intent upon a point ahead; Shoma gave his hand a squeeze, his signal that he was ready, and he caught the smallest twitch at the corner of the thin line of Yuzuru’s mouth. They shared a glance, Yuzuru squeezing Shoma’s hand back before giving the nod to move. Shoma nodded slowly in readiness, and they raised their free hands in unison, touching two fingers to their lips then blowing out the magic like a kiss into the sky. Shoma could hear the roar of it in his ears – deafening and full of static – and he held on to Yuzuru harder, bracing himself against the force their two powers made as they surged together, finding each other instantly and locking into place, balanced perfectly, clear, purposeful and full. The power came alive as it flooded out into the air around them; Shoma could feel swirls of warm gold brushing his cheeks as his power poured out, reacting to Yuzuru’s power as it did the same. Two ribbons of cloudy light appeared at their outstretched fingertips and started wrapping around each other, growing stronger and beginning to shimmer with sparks; as they climbed into the air they branched out into a hundred strands, which all danced up and looped around each other as they drifted in lazy patterns with the breeze. The golds and silvers shimmered and winked, shifting into every colour imaginable, though still glowing a sunlit gold at the edges as the ribbons split off into more and more shapes, fanning out like kites in the night sky, sparks and petals falling away from them as they moved. Yuzuru’s eyes glinted as he watched them fly. ‘Everything comes down to hearts, moments and colours,’ he murmured faintly, watching the trails of light collide and twist and unfurl only to knot again. ‘Hopes, dreams, wishes, memories, even power; the fabric of them is the moments we held close, the colours we lived them in…and the hearts with whom we chose to share them.’ He brought his hand back up again and blew out a breeze that pushed the ribbon-kites up above the clouds and slowly out into the distance, smiling softly as he watched them leave a trail of petals in their wake. ‘This is how we find the strength to remember, and how the remembering becomes a magic of its own,’ he added then, voice almost a sigh as he glanced back at Shoma with a strange, sad sort of hope. ‘Will you remember me, Shoma? Remember this?’  
‘Of course,’ Shoma answered without hesitation. ‘I don’t think I could un-know you,’ he said softly, glancing down at his hands on the railing almost shyly. ‘I will always remember our time together even if, at some point, it has to end. And maybe I might come to want to forget, tomorrow or three years from now…for one reason or for another. But my skin, my heart, my fingers…they will always remember. Because there’s lightning tracks all over me…and I don’t think I’m the same as I was before they got there.’

For a moment it was quiet – strangely quiet, as though the whole city were holding its breath. Shoma looked up cautiously, meeting Yuzuru’s eyes and offering him the smallest of smiles, lifting one shoulder in a dismissive shrug that he knew wouldn’t fool someone who saw through him as well as Yuzuru did. Yuzuru rewarded him with a sweet, conspiratorial smile, lopsided and silly and strangely comforting, and he nudged into Shoma’s side slightly before pulling himself forwards to lean on the railing again, looking back out at the city in front of them. Lit by the night time glimmer of Singapore’s lights, he looked beautiful and improbable and wild once more; something incredible and brilliant, something which should have felt as distant as the figure Shoma had watched on his phone screen before. But now he was standing beside him rather than seeing him through the camera’s lens – like this he could see the raw skin at the far corner of his lips where he sometimes tried too hard to bite back a laugh, the mussed hair at the nape of his neck where he ruffled at it for the sake of something to do with his hands, the shifting of the muscles in his too-long neck as he drew in a rough breath. Shoma could see it all, because Yuzuru wanted him to, wanted him there. And because Shoma wanted to be there too; because they had shared jokes and secrets and memories, and they had missed each other enough in that short space of time to need to see each other’s faces again. It coloured him back in in Shoma’s mind: restored his humanity and distanced him from the myth and hype and power, even with the buzz of his power alive in the air between them. He was lit by the glitter an unlikely city skyline, his fringe fluttering lightly in the breeze – and he did look incandescent, fascinatingly so. But he also felt so solid at Shoma’s side; so warm and close and gentle, the peace in his expression fragile but full, messy like any other human. He was reassuringly present, breathing in and out inside the same moment Shoma was inside; and Shoma knew it had become something indelible, imprinted into him forever – spelled out in jagged bolts of gold lightning all along his skin.

Shoma shivered slightly against the light breeze as it picked up around them, and Yuzuru shot him one of those looks that was all despair and affection from the corner of his eye.  
‘You can’t have the jacket,’ he said quickly and Shoma sent a half-hearted glare his way.  
‘Selfish,’ he replied, scrunching his face up at Yuzuru and making him laugh. He shivered again and tried to hide it, rubbing at his arms slightly and leaning a little more on the railing, watching with absent curiosity as someone made a frantic dash across one of the bridges over the road below only to stop somewhat abruptly when they got halfway, turning back in the direction they had come from and striding out of view. Yuzuru knocked into Shoma’s side and he looked up at him, blinking slowly, eyes wide; Yuzuru had a way of making even the softest expression seem strangely intense, and the tiny, fond smile that tugged on his lips would have – on anyone else – looked completely at odds with the dark sparkle in his eyes. But Yuzuru wore contradiction like it was an artform – all iridescent, clashing colours and swirls of oil-dark paint. Yuzuru knew how to look luminous and still be peaceful, knew how to be the loudest thing in the room without losing one ounce of his inherent gentleness. Shoma shivered again, and although it wasn’t the breeze this time Yuzuru still laughed.

‘Come here,’ Yuzuru sighed softly into the quiet, tugging at the zip of his jacket and holding it open to Shoma as an invitation for him to burrow close. Shoma smiled – shy and delighted at the same time – and he let out a small, begrudging whine.  
‘Why do you insist on embarrassing me all the time?’ he huffed even as he slid closer, letting Yuzuru wrap the jacket around him. Yuzuru rolled his eyes and pulled him close against his chest, resting his chin on his shoulder and blanketing him with his body.  
‘But this is better, right?’ he asked simply, his voice a ticklish whisper that made Shoma curl back against his chest with a breathless, self-conscious laugh that came out too tight and too high.  
‘You’re so over the top,’ he pouted faintly, digging an elbow into Yuzuru’s ribs and glancing back over his shoulder at him. ‘But…yeah. This is…better. Definitely.’ Yuzuru smiled, a curiously knowing smile that made Shoma wonder if he had perhaps sensed some of his earlier unease and deliberately judged his actions in such a way as to dispel it completely, before resting his chin back on Shoma’s shoulder.  
‘Good.’ He gave Shoma a small squeeze. ‘That’s all I needed to know.’

If there was a moment in life when Shoma had felt safer, more grounded, he couldn’t summon it to mind. Even back home he had a way of letting the outside noise undermine the moments of safety, of not letting himself feel too comfortable for too long just in case it was taken away from him. He craved stability but rarely let himself have it – and yet, with Yuzuru, in that moment, the world seemed wholly insignificant, and Shoma allowed himself sink back into the feeling, letting out a long breath and for once not thinking of how long it would be his. Yuzuru shifted beside him, letting out a hum that vibrated against Shoma’s back and made him smile, anchoring something inside him and strengthening the sense of peace as it crept through his body. ‘I thought you would have gone out with the others,’ Yuzuru remarked idly into the quiet, and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Their plans were all so much effort,’ he shrugged. ‘Mikhail and Dima asked if I wanted to walk to Chinatown with them for food, and I thought about it…but those two could get lost in the hotel lobby, and I don’t have the best track record either. So I told them I wasn’t hungry and I think they ended up convincing Jun to go with them instead. The chances of seeing any of them ever again are probably slim, honestly.’ Yuzuru snorted.  
‘Jun will be ok; he makes friends easily, he’ll probably just get adopted and start a new life here. I can’t speak for the others, though; they might be wandering the city for days if Mikhail is navigating,’ he shrugged. Shoma smirked.  
‘Whatever, I’d rather be here with you anyway,’ he said, his tone dismissive but his smile giving him away.

Shoma yawned, feeling pleasantly exhausted and relaxed; the soft fabric of Yuzuru’s jacket brushed against his chin with a faint waft of jasmine and he smiled slightly, glancing back at him again thoughtfully. The play of light and shadow from the city beyond made his edges seem a little sharper than usual, the line of his jaw more defined and the piercing calm of his eyes more determined. Tucked against him like this he was more clear to Shoma than ever – something certain and safe. He had always believed in him, in his power, but with his arms around him like this it made him realise just how strongly he also believed in the skin and bones of him, believed in everything he was. Believed in his heart. ‘I saw the livestream, you know,’ he murmured, his voice half-lost to the city. ‘Itsuki made me watch. My brother has barely paid attention to anything to do with the Foundation in all his life – but you? He’s actually impressed by.’  
‘Sorry,’ Yuzuru said, wrinkling his nose, and Shoma laughed softly, shaking his head and giving him a small shove.  
‘No you’re not, Thunder Boy,’ he huffed, unable to hide the sparkle in his eyes. ‘I owe you sweets,’ he noted through another yawn, swaying back a little and smiling when Yuzuru pushed against him enough to keep him upright. He let his head fall back, looking up at Yuzuru from the corner of his eye. ‘How many sweets is it for a full run-through, no mistakes and no pauses?’ he asked and Yuzuru laughed, closing one eye as he considered it.  
‘When I first started learning it, it was one, I think. But I got it wrong so many times you upped it to five,’ he pouted. Shoma smirked.  
‘I’ll make it worth your while and go for six; that was better than a run-through,’ he said, shrugging. Yuzuru’s smile was wide and ridiculous and Shoma glanced away, fighting back a smile of his own. ‘You give good PR.’ He bit his lip, his brow briefly creasing into a frown. ‘But I prefer you like this though,’ he added, rough and timid, and he took a moment, sucking at his bottom lip as he considered it. When he turned his head and looked up he found Yuzuru watching him intently, his expression sweet and open. ‘I know it sounds stupid but…when you’re close and quiet and it’s just the two of us, that’s one of the only times I can be sure you’re real. Because when you’re on, and people are watching…sometimes it feels like you might just be a trick of the light…something which could just vanish if the wind changed direction.’ Shoma closed his eyes, turning just slightly against Yuzuru and smiling when he held him a little tighter, resting his chin on top of his head. ‘I’m so scared you’ll just disappear sometimes I can’t shake the feeling off. I know I could just sense for you, but…some things aren’t about power.’ He shrugged as best he could. ‘When you’re here, you’re warm and you’re safe. And I don’t usually think that way about people who aren’t my family. Because people are treacherous and demanding and don’t care if I’ve had enough. But not you. You’re just…everything else there is to be. And I think that’s why, in my head…there’s always the chance I could’ve imagined you. At least until you’re close again.’

Yuzuru was quiet for a while, and Shoma shifted a little, leaning back enough to look up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. His expression was tender and gentle, all his usual drums and chaos replaced by the slow turn of the universe inside him and the steady weight of his gravity – Shoma could see it in his eyes, could feel it pulling at him.  
‘Sho,’ Yuzuru said, reverent and hushed as he lifted a hand to brush lightly at the messy curls of Shoma’s mussed fringe. From anyone else it was just a nickname, but Yuzuru somehow turned it into a spell; something that did more than it seemed on the surface – full of feeling and secrets and the sense that he was fascinated by everything it meant to him. He leant in, putting their foreheads together with the faintest of laughs, a sound so soft it was more of a puff of breath than anything, and the feeling tickled Shoma’s cheeks. ‘Shoma Uno, are you trying to stop a whole city right now?’ Yuzuru asked then, and when Shoma frowned he simply tipped his head to the view out beyond, eyes glittering with amusement. Shoma turned, confused for a moment until he looked at the cars on the street below and realised they were moving in a curious, heavy slow-motion, as though they were underwater. Time was dragging, the air around them thick with it, and Shoma watched in wonder as everything ground to a halt – just for a second – before shifting back into half-speed once more.  
‘Oh,’ he said slowly, tilting his head. ‘Is that my power or yours?’ he asked, looking back at Yuzuru, who laughed slightly, shrugging and shifting to lean on the railing, peering down at the scene thoughtfully.  
‘I think maybe this is what happens when you pull on a tangle that includes power,’ he murmured, biting his lip as he considered it. ‘I think your power did what it wanted…and I think my power is trying to…order it? To smooth out the edges and direct it a little more.’ He shrugged, looking at Shoma with a wry smile. ‘Are we a mess, Shoma?’ he asked and Shoma laughed.  
‘I’ve been trying to tell you this for a while now, Yuzu,’ he said, rolling his eyes and jostling him slightly, and Yuzuru grinned, jokingly poking at his cheek. Shoma tried to scowl at him, but Yuzuru just smiled, eyes glittering, and Shoma lost the battle against his own smile, sighing. ‘You’re such a pain.’  
‘ _I’m such a pain_ ,’ Yuzuru repeated mockingly. ‘But you still hang out with me anyway, huh? Even when you have the whole of Singapore to go see.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Because you’re _my_ pain. I’m not risking you finding someone else to annoy the hell out of,’ he shot back, digging his elbow into Yuzuru’s side and shooting him a shy smile. Yuzuru laughed brightly, throwing his head back for a moment before giving Shoma a small squeeze.  
‘You’re the sweetest, meanest person, you know that?’  
‘It’s on my business card,’ Shoma nodded, eyes sparkling wickedly, and Yuzuru smiled fondly back at him, dipping his head and laughing softly against Shoma’s hair.

They were quiet again for a few moments, both watching as time gradually began to right itself in the city below. Yuzuru hummed thoughtfully, head on one side as he studied the stuttering city and his dark eyes wandered to where the Singapore Flyer was slowly turning back to life in the distance.  
‘You know, Singapore has one of the highest power concentrations of any city?’ he said suddenly, his voice sounding distant, and Shoma raised his eyebrows, looking at the city in consideration for a moment before nodding slowly.  
‘I guess I can see that,’ he said, taking in the modern skyscrapers and shimmering lights and thinking it was the closest thing to the Foundation skyline the outside world could probably ever be. ‘But…how come they’re not represented at the Foundation so much? I mean…I know they have a lot of people in the other departments, but why not people with powers? If they have so many?’  
‘It’s complicated,’ Yuzuru sighed. ‘It all goes back to the time before the Grey Zones – Singapore have always had these high numbers, and they have always been a very practical, forward-looking place. They saw they had all these people with power and they wanted to do something for them themselves; to put that power to good use for the country’s benefit. They were the second country in the world to create a Ministry For Power and to think about how power could benefit society. By the time the Foundation came around…almost every Singaporean with power already had a job, a purpose for their power, some of them were even helping work on the problem already.’ He shrugged, leaning into Shoma a little with a soft, thoughtful little huff. ‘They used to have really strong ties with this group…you’ll have heard of them, I’m sure: most people just call them the Alliance, right?’  
‘The Power For Productivity Alliance?’ Shoma said and Yuzuru nodded.  
‘That’s it…you know about them then?’ he asked. Shoma shrugged.  
‘Not really. I know they were trying to get me to come to one of their offices in Japan for some sort of trial. But my mum wasn’t having any of it. Itsuki says they’re still trying, but I’m pretty sure Mum’s doing a good job of seeing them off. She doesn’t trust them; she says no one ever knows where they send their people and that they don’t really let them come back to their families often. She’s always admired the Foundation – that was where she wanted me if I had to go anywhere. It meant a lot to her that I was invited.’ Yuzuru smiled.  
‘I’m glad she chased the Alliance away. You belong at the Foundation,’ he said softly. ‘Or at least…I want you to belong there. I want you to belong with me.’ Shoma glanced down with a shy smile, beginning to chew at his lip again as he felt a blush creep along his jawline. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time the Alliance tried to recruit someone who was shortlisted by the Foundation, though; it’s caused problems before – they’ve even hired a bunch of people out from under Brian in the past, and sometimes it’s been dicey. They feel the Foundation has damaged their work, that Brian has a stranglehold that means they can’t recruit powerful enough people for themselves now – it makes them a little mean, sometimes.’  
‘People powerful enough for what, though?’ Shoma frowned.  
‘I don’t know, really. I think they find work for people with power where the power helps them work more efficiently? They’re a sort of employment agency. They’re pretty successful too; successful enough that some countries complain now that they have to fund sending people to the Foundation when they could just send them to the Alliance and get actual work out of them instead.’  
‘But then who would solve the Grey Zone problem if everyone with power just went off to the Alliance to work?’ Shoma asked, pulling a face, and Yuzuru laughed sadly, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.  
‘I don’t know, Shoma. I think maybe there are some governments who are starting to think it is a problem that will never go away – they want to concentrate on other things. I don’t blame them but…I don’t agree with them. That is part of the disagreement between Singapore and Malaysia now, you know? Singapore believe the Foundation way makes sense, and they wish to fight to keep colours in the world no matter what. Malaysia think it is unrealistic to expect anything can be done when no power yet has been enough to fix it – they are starting to feel they must look to securing their future in other ways. The Alliance have really grown their bases there as a result; they’re behind a lot of the protests everywhere, but this is the first time the Foundation have visited a place where they are becoming more favoured by the government. Singapore, though? They have cut most of their Alliance ties these days because they don’t see that power should be used for anything other than the problem of the Grey Zones until they are gone – that’s why they’ve been able to stop any protests whilst we’ve been here. In Malaysia it won’t be the same; Brian has been on the phone to press people there for an hour today defending the Foundation against the accusations flying around in the media there, and that’s before we’ve even arrived.’  
‘But that’s so stupid: surely if you’re trying to find jobs where power can help, you need a world with power in it, right? That won’t last if everywhere becomes a Grey Zone,’ Shoma said slowly. Yuzuru smiled slightly, nodding.  
‘That’s how a lot of people see it. But it’s not as though the Foundation has results to point to. At least the Alliance have people in jobs and profits to show for it.’  
‘People in jobs no one knows about who never really see their families or talk about anything they do,’ Shoma pointed out darkly and Yuzuru laughed, nudging Shoma gently.  
‘Sho, you make it sound so shifty!’ Shoma paused for a moment, tipping his head to one side in thought.  
‘But I mean…isn’t it?’ he said slowly, looking up at Yuzuru from the corner of his eye. Yuzuru paused, licking his lips as he considered the point.  
‘I’ve never really thought about it, honestly,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t like that they think power is just a tool when it is so obviously about much more. But…that doesn’t give me the right to make accusations, they just have a different view to mine. I wish they weren’t caught up in all these protests, but…the Foundation is a threat to the business they have built and we have to respect how that must make them feel.’  
‘I suppose I can see that…but I still think they should be more worried about the Grey Zones than they are,’ Shoma said, his face still furrowed into a frown. ‘You said they’re international, right?’  
‘Sure.’  
‘But they’re not…you know, one of the points of commonality or anything? Like, they couldn’t be getting anything out of the Grey Zones somehow?’ Yuzuru blinked at Shoma for a moment, straightening a little and pursing his lips; there was a wrinkle of concentration on his forehead, his eyes slowly turning to fix on a point somewhere beyond Shoma’s head.  
‘No. But then there is no commonality between all Grey Zones; no brand or person or business, not that we’ve found yet, anyway.’ He looked back at Shoma, shrugging but seeming far from convinced. ‘What would they stand to gain from a Grey Zone, right? Like you said: there is no profit for them in no power.’ Shoma sighed, looking away.  
‘I guess,’ he murmured, shaking his head slightly. ‘It’s just…I keep thinking about what Javi said, you know? About something needing to be forceful enough to rip human-sized holes in the universe?’ He glanced at Yuzuru out of the corner of his eye; he nodded slowly back at him, his gaze thoughtful and quiet as he let the point sink in.  
‘The Alliance collect power and resent the power being used in the way the Foundation promotes – they must know who is most powerful, because they have always pursued people who the Foundation have also shown interest in. They have an international reach…which would probably cover all of the Grey Zones in some way.’ He nodded out to the city. ‘Places like Singapore; the capital cities and the ones which thrive on magic, they are all still standing, still colourful.’ He lifted his hand, passing it over Shoma’s face with a gentle smile, studying the play of the shadows across his cheeks. ‘A shadow is directly related to that which casts it – you would have to cast a vast shadow to block out the light of this city, you know? But it would take less to block out the light of the places on the outskirts; the places where the Grey Zones are. And shadows can be shaped, manipulated. But it would take good position and a lot of resources. I guess the Alliance are one of the only organisations in the world with the scope and scale. In a lot of ways it…makes sense.’ He sighed, dropping his hand and looking at Shoma quietly for a beat, his smile turning sad. ‘But why? And how? We still don’t know what it would take to create a Snatcher. Or why anyone would want to.’  
‘It’s probably stupid. I just…’ Shoma sighed, glancing down. ‘I keep getting this feeling, Yuzu. That there’s more to it than what it looks like: it’s like the pattern of the Grey Zones is so chaotic because someone wants it to be that way, like that’s a distraction so they can carry on getting whatever they want out of it, you know?’ He looked cautiously back up into Yuzuru’s face, offering him another shrug. ‘I don’t know if it started as a deliberate thing, but maybe it’s become that now. Maybe this isn’t just an accident or a side-effect…maybe it’s actually the point, and people distrusting the Foundation so much is just another part of the plan.’

Yuzuru was silent as he looked down into Shoma’s face; there was intensity and intrigue there, and Shoma could tell that something in his words had lit a fire of curiosity in him, the sort of curiosity that would probably lead to trouble and danger and things that would cause worry. The sort of curiosity that made Yuzuru so brilliant, though – so purpose-built to fulfil the hope and wonder of all the titles and legends and speculations placed on him. His need to learn and his determination to never give up had brought him this far, through scrapes and stumbles and obstacles; he would probably save the world one day because of it, but Shoma was starting to realise more and more that there would be a cost. Heroes in fairytales got the luxury of getting out alive, but often in real life heroes didn’t do survival – not in one piece anyway. It was terrifying to realise that one of the things he most valued in Yuzuru – his fragile, beautiful humanity – was probably also his greatest weakness, the thing that might stop this particular hero from coming out of the story whole.

A part of him wanted to take the words back, wanted to tell Yuzuru he was being ridiculous and that he should just say all this to someone in research and then forget about it forever. But he couldn’t. Because Yuzuru smiled at him again, touching a hand to his cheek like he was a precious thing and studying his face with those rich brown eyes of his.  
‘You really do hear all the noise, don’t you,’ he murmured. ‘But somehow you still manage – given time – to take only the words that matter out of it, to filter it down to the heart.’ He traced his finger along the line of Shoma’s jaw, tipping his head just slightly as he regarded him with a smile that Shoma couldn’t quite read, and Shoma shivered again, making him laugh softly, scrunching up his face. ‘Are you still cold?’ he asked, gentle and amused, and Shoma shook his head, looking down at the streets below in an effort to hide his blush. His skin felt like it was on fire, yet still too cool at the same time, and there was a thin thread of electricity tracing a path down his spine that made him have to fight not to shudder again.  
‘I’m fine,’ he said quietly, swallowing hard and concentrating more intently than was necessary on an ambulance as it weaved through the traffic below with a distant wail. Yuzuru rolled his eyes and smacked Shoma’s arm, leaning in to try to force his eyes back up, and because Shoma was as useless as everyone else at denying someone so undeniable, he looked back immediately. ‘Promise: I’m fine.’  
‘Hmm.’ Yuzuru narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Shoma expected him to press – but instead his expression softened. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asked, quirking an eyebrow as though it was a challenge somehow, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile back at him, rolling his eyes.  
‘Stop babying me. I ate some of the stuff I got given today: I’ll live,’ he sighed, leaning forward to rest his head on his arms, his smile softening when Yuzuru moved to do the same, knocking their shoulders together with a small, silly laugh.  
‘You’re going to sustain yourself on meet and greet gifts? Sho. You were popular, but I don’t anyone is popular enough to actually live off those things.’  
‘You probably could. Your gifts had to have their own sorting office, Yuzu. I almost got brained by a bear wearing a hand-sewn replica of your jacket that fell out of the compartment Tracy shoved them all in for the drive back – and it creeped me the hell out because it even had a tiny summit ID and I swear it was judging me.’ Yuzuru snorted, bumping into Shoma again with a twinkly smile.  
‘You know, now that I get too many to carry myself, Tracy just puts them all in their own hotel room. She picks out all the letters and personalised stuff, eats most of the chocolate and then tries to find everything else good homes. She says if Brian keeps making her do it instead of hiring someone then she’s going to start leaving the bags outside his room so he has to dig his way out.’  
‘You look way too proud about this.’  
‘It’s fun,’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘You have to laugh, right? Or you’d just…freak out.’ He paused then, humming softly. ‘I suppose I freak out too,’ he added then, wrinkling his nose. ‘But tonight is a laughing night,’ he decided. ‘There’s chaos all around, but I get to be here with you; maybe we’re not alone in the garden, but we’re together. That’s enough for me.’ Shoma looked at him with a reluctant smile, twisting his lips to one side and rolling his eyes, burying his face in his arms as he let out a small groan.  
‘Why do you have to be so dumb?’ he asked. ‘And by dumb I mean…you know…too sappy for me to even know how to be mad at you for it,’ he added lifting his face and looking back at Yuzuru with a sigh. ‘You’re a nightmare,’ he murmured. Yuzuru scrunched his nose up at him, leaning in.  
‘So are you,’ he said quietly. ‘Now come on: you have to _eat_ or you will fall asleep on this roof and probably freeze to death.’ He pushed himself up decisively, and Shoma frowned at him curiously.  
‘But eat what?’ he asked through a yawn. ‘You can’t go out without it being a whole scene – and I don’t even want to go out anyway, it’s late and busy and loud and I can’t be bothered with it. I’m happier just…hanging out with you.’ Yuzuru smiled softly, twirling round so his back was against the wall and tipping his head to one side in thought. He was suddenly giddy and light again – free and untroubled by anything.  
‘Well…what would you say to sharing some of the McDonalds Javi went and got for me earlier because he knew I wouldn’t eat otherwise…?’ He glanced down at Shoma slowly, opening his mouth and raising his eyebrows in a sweet, ridiculous expression of expectation that made Shoma laugh.  
‘You’re gonna let me get greasy fingerprints all over your hotel room?’ he asked, smile sly as he pushed himself up, turning to stand beside Yuzuru.  
‘Will it make you smile?’ Yuzuru asked. Shoma pursed his lips, eyes sparkling.  
‘Maybe,’ he conceded and Yuzuru beamed.  
‘Then sure – that sounds like a fair deal.’ Shoma laughed, nudging him softly.  
‘You’re such a dork,’ he sighed and Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘Shut up and come on,’ he said, grabbing Shoma’s hand with sudden force and pulling him along behind him.  
‘You have the weirdest way of making someone feel welcome, you know that?’ Shoma smirked, half-stumbling after him, and Yuzuru grinned brightly, turning on his heel to walk backwards and giving Shoma’s hand another tug.  
‘You still always stay, though, Shoma,’ he pointed out, waggling his eyebrows and making Shoma whine by forcefully twirling him under his arm.  
‘I actually have no idea why I’m friends with you,’ he muttered as Yuzuru laughed.  
‘Liar.’ Yuzuru shot him a knowing smile. ‘You love being my friend; there’s more free food than you know what to do with and I don’t tell anyone your secrets. I’m the dream, Shoma – stop pretending.’  
‘You’re…definitely something,’ Shoma said, arch but fond as he let Yuzuru pull him towards the lifts.

It was stupidly easy, spending time with Yuzuru away from the rest of the world, sitting opposite each other on his bed with their dinner spread out between them whilst they talked about nothing much at all, laughing around mouthfuls of food and throwing napkins at each other when they argued. Shoma ate the lion’s share of the meal, whilst Yuzuru picked around the edges, eventually losing interest and getting out his phone to thumb through his messages. He flopped onto his back with a contented sigh, and Shoma smiled slightly to himself as he licked sauce off his fingers. He snuck looks at Yuzuru out of the corner of his eye, enjoying his front row seat to the way he became so completely himself in the quiet. He looked silly and blissfully happy in that moment – he wasn’t smiling, not exactly; there were shadows under his eyes and his hair had fallen away from his forehead in an absurd black tuft that stuck up at a peculiar angle, his lips were still a little greasy, his eyes heavy-lidded and his blinks slow. But there was a full, heavy happiness there, something dark and exhausted and hopeful; it was a dusk kind of happiness, made up of the same sort of lilac-clouded magic that Shoma had been enchanted by since he was a child. He felt like he was falling just looking at him, his stomach dropping and his lungs growing tight – he wasn’t sure if he hoped Yuzuru sensed it or if he wanted to try and push it down to make sure he didn’t. He wasn’t looking at Shoma, his eyes instead on his phone as he continued scrolling through his messages, but Shoma knew he knew more than he let on.

Yuzuru had been reading Shoma the highlights of the Team Japan group chat, which was full of absurd arguments over Nobu’s new fixation with penguin facts, but Itsuki had interrupted, deciding to make Yuzuru play the part of Shoma’s secretary by using his phone to resume a dispute from that morning over whether or not Shoma was responsible for his stash of leftover birthday chocolate having mysteriously disappeared.  
‘Urgh, you’re smirking: what did he say now?’ Shoma asked as he caught Yuzuru’s expression, and Yuzuru looked up, laughing.  
‘Latest update? It has to be you because he swears there’s chocolate fingerprints on your bedside lamp.’  
‘Of course there are: from _my_ secret chocolate stash! Seriously, that’s it: give me the phone – I’m calling him,’ Shoma said with finality as he finished the last of the fries and promptly rolled across to lie on his stomach, bumping into Yuzuru as he landed. Yuzuru let out a soft “humph” of complaint, holding the phone away from him, and Shoma laughed, stretching harder.  
‘You’re going to get grease on it,’ Yuzuru said with a whiney laugh as Shoma made a grab for the phone, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to squirm away from him.  
‘Give it up, Hanyu – I’m smaller than you but I’m way more violent,’ Shoma declared. The two of them struggled for a moment, knees jabbing into sides and limbs tangling until Shoma was lying half-across Yuzuru, the phone in his clutches whilst Yuzuru complained loudly beneath him, trying to push him off but still laughing, his cheeks pink and his hair at all angles. Shoma shot him an affectionate glance, sticking his tongue out. ‘Told you so,’ he grinned breathlessly, and Yuzuru pulled a face, finally pushing Shoma over so he landed with a dull, graceless thump on his other side.  
‘Trouble,’ he huffed and Shoma laughed, taking a moment to catch his breath as he pushed his hair out of his face and rolled back onto his stomach, their arms pressing together with the motion. He leant up on his elbows, pausing a moment to look down at Yuzuru, who had closed his eyes, a soft smile still curling his lips. ‘Call your brother,’ he told Shoma softly, his voice rough but content as he opened one eye to look at him. There was so much peace in him that Shoma felt it filling him up second hand, warming him right through. Yuzuru was looking up at him thoughtfully, lazy but intent, like he knew something Shoma didn’t, and Shoma swallowed hard.  
‘Shut up,’ he muttered, shaking his head and smiling somewhat shyly, and Yuzuru let out a bubble of a laugh, elbowing him in the ribs.  
‘I wasn’t saying anything,’ he said, rough and happy, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Like you need words to be loud: it’s in your DNA,’ he shot back, his gaze dark and full of feeling. His cheeks felt hot but he didn’t feel shy or self-conscious, for once; he was just happy, happy enough that it made his whole body feel alive and humming.

Shoma looked back down at the phone in his hands then, his gaze turning thoughtful as he tapped his thumb against the screen. It was silly, he supposed, to be taken aback by the total trust of simply being allowed access to the phone of a person whose very energy he could access day or night from across a city – but he was, all the same. It was the totality of it; the way Yuzuru was so still and content beside him, no hint of concern or worry, no instructions on the tip of his tongue for Shoma to avoid looking at messages or opening emails. Shoma had everything at his fingertips – his photos and his phonebook and his email and that soft, unguarded expression – and Yuzuru didn’t mind.

Shoma wasn’t sure why he did it, but he pulled up the camera roll, scrolling absently through the pictures; he was aware of Yuzuru studying his face as he moved through the stream of moments and memories and things clearly saved from other people, but he made no move to stop him or pull the phone from his hands. So instead Shoma continued to cycle through the pictures, hesitating over the ones he thought were somehow the most Yuzuru, smiling slightly at what secrets he felt he could see in them. There were the expected images; shots with his friends from the Foundation, more abstract pictures of pretty patterns made by shadows and clouds and butterflies, details from buildings and a few landscapes, the skyline of the Foundation, some grainy, early-morning airport lounges and foreign landmarks Shoma recognised but couldn’t place. The ones Shoma took the most time over were different, though. A screengrab of a conversation with his sister about how the blossom was out and it made her think of him, presumably from before their home became a Grey Zone. A messy picture of the scattering of books and jackets and backpacks beneath their favourite tree in the garden, Shoma lying in the midst of it frowning down at a game on his phone. A handwritten quote about believing in magic surrounded by intricately painted flowers and a note of thanks from the girl who had drawn it for him. A photograph of a photograph that showed Yuzuru with his family when he couldn’t have been more than four, his face a near-perfect copy of his mother’s and his legs making up three-quarters of his body. Tracy’s lecture hall ceiling, mid-way through transformation. A birthday card from Javier with an apology for being two weeks late written in sloppy handwriting on the top. Ghislain’s office door proudly displaying a commendation he’d received for the work he’d done with Yuzuru on a presentation in Tokyo. A picture Shoma had drawn of a moon and stars on the bottom of Yuzuru’s lecture notes. A black and gold butterfly perched, perfectly matched, on Yuzuru’s favourite headphones. Shoma came to a stop on a saved press picture of Yuzuru at the airport: he was turning, the camera catching the exact moment he saw Shoma step up beside him, Shoma’s smile small and Yuzuru’s smile all in his eyes. Shoma stared down at the image with vague wonder, finding himself oddly pleased at the idea that it was out in the world; proof that he definitely hadn’t imagined this person or what he meant to him, proof that Yuzuru was still Yuzuru, even when washed out by flash-bulbs and airport lighting. It was alarmingly public, but it was good to know he hadn’t managed to simply invent something under the light of dusk that wasn’t really there at all. And more importantly, Yuzuru had to have sought this out, had to have valued this moment enough to sift through all sort of articles he normally tried to avoid, must have looked at a hundred or more pictures of the two of them before deciding this one mattered enough to keep. This one was – to him – the most of Shoma, the most of Yuzuru, the most of what they were together. And he wanted to hold on to it.

‘I know it’s strange,’ Yuzuru said into the quiet, his voice a murmur and his eyes distant as he gazed at a point on the ceiling. Shoma looked over at him curiously, and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug, something suddenly sad in his expression. ‘I know that being around me is to have to live with a thousand ghosts; of headlines and expectations and all these versions of who I am. I know that even when we are alone, there will always be the traces of these things – the weight of the life I chose, the responsibilities I accepted. Your life is your own, but mine isn’t, and to be part of my life is to risk flying off that edge with me, and making a choice that might not entirely belong to you. I know if there is anyone in the world who could take it, it would be you – but I don’t ever want to be the reason-’  
‘Don’t,’ Shoma said, soft but firm, and Yuzuru looked across at him, meeting his eyes immediately. ‘I know who you are; you don’t have to apologize for it.’ Shoma shrugged, reaching out to touch a hand to Yuzuru’s cheek, studying his face intently. ‘I’m here because I want to be. And…for now, it’s enough to be able to be close to you, to know there is a you that isn’t theirs. When I stay close enough, I don’t even hear the ghosts. For a little while at least.’ 

Shoma looked at him – really looked. They hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, and the room was bathed entirely in the glimmer of Singapore’s skyline beyond the window, pools of colour bleeding into each other and making curious patterns out of the shadows. Seeing Yuzuru in the strange, eerie light, it was possible to recognise the round-cheeked kid from the photograph who had no clue what he was getting himself into. Yuzuru had never really had a choice to make, let alone one he could possibly have understood – yet here Shoma was, staring the options down and trying to hold off the luxury of the choice he had by clinging to the way Yuzuru looked in the near-darkness, how his lips shone a pale pink and his eyes turned shimmery-dark. But he couldn’t not; he didn’t know how to not be fascinated by him and only him. ‘You know right now, I…I only see you.’ Shoma whispered the confession, but he kept his gaze steady as he looked into Yuzuru’s face. ‘Everything I hear and feel…it’s just…you. The person you were from the moment you first spoke to me.’ Shoma swallowed, wetting his lips and tracing his finger along Yuzuru’s jawline – he followed the line with his eyes, moving his finger along the curve of his neck, brushing his pulse point and dragging just a little across the dip of his shoulder. And Yuzuru let him. Placid, calm. Completely open. ‘No matter which persona you are wearing in one moment, I know that, when we are together, underneath the surface, there is still my Yuzuru. The one who is so demanding but never demands too much, who loves the colour of sunrise and tries to fit a hundred sentences in the space where only two should be. Whose hands are rough and whose laugh is too loud and who always waits until I’m ready to speak. The one who lets me draw on his notes instead of paying attention and mutters nonsense under his breath when he thinks I’m asleep. The one who feels like a summer storm and always helps me find the room to breathe. The one in the darkness.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘He isn’t theirs, but he is real. To me, he is the most real thing.’ He glanced back up and met Yuzuru’s gaze; his eyelids were low and heavy, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that made Shoma hold his breath for a beat. ‘I know nothing can stop it; the outside is going to find a way in eventually, and I don’t know what choice I’m going to make when it does. But I will never think of being with you as something haunted. For me, in all our time together, you are just Yuzu. Nothing more and nothing less.’ A slight smile crossed his lips as he let his hand curl against the crook of Yuzuru’s neck. ‘You could never manage to be less even if you tried. You’re more; you’re the most. And it’s terrifying…but it’s ok.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘The rest of the world won’t exist for a little while, because it’s dark and it’s late and it’s quiet and you’re here…and that is everything that I want. So…for now, it’s ok. Tomorrow does what it wants, I guess. But right here, in this moment? All I know is you and gravity. And that’s all I want to know. I’d be happy if it was all I knew forever, probably.’

Yuzuru shifted his head a little, a sweep of dark hair falling across his face and into his eyes. Shoma swallowed, his gaze drifting down to Yuzuru’s lips as he pressed them together for a moment; when they parted they glistened a little, curling at one corner in a faint expression that wasn’t quite a smile. Shoma found himself leaning in just slightly, enjoying how close together they had drawn their bodies and feeling something in his ribcage turn over at the sensation of Yuzuru’s chest rising and falling against his own. His fingers brushed absently at the hair in Yuzuru’s face, lifting it from his forehead and watching in fascination as he let it fall back down, the strands criss-crossing like brushstrokes across his skin, which looked strangely pale beneath the city glow that drifted in through the windows. Shoma could feel ribbons of light closing around them, tying together and knotting and weaving and pulling tight, and for a second – just a second – he was sure of what he was going to do.

And then a shrill chime filled the air, and Shoma jumped, both he and Yuzuru pulling back and turning towards the sound. Shoma stared at the phone for a moment, lost and confused and bewildered, and then he blinked, picking it up from where it had fallen, forgotten, by his elbow.  
‘The rest of the world really isn’t ever so far away, huh?’ Yuzuru remarked, wry and rough and whispered, and Shoma looked back at him for a moment, thoughtful and sad. Yuzuru shot him a strange, gentle smile, shrugging one shoulder; his eyes were still dark and sparkling, but there was something resigned there too, as though he’d just been proven right about something he hadn’t wanted to be right about. Shoma sighed and looked back down at the phone; he couldn’t help but laugh slightly, shooting Yuzuru a sidelong glance. ‘Itsuki found the chocolate,’ he said dryly, rolling his eyes and tossing Yuzuru the phone, flopping down onto his back with a huff, covering his face for a just a moment and trying to put his scattered thoughts back into some sort of order. Yuzuru laughed, catching the phone and squinting down at the message tiredly.  
‘And apparently I have to tell you this doesn’t make up for the time you ate his chocolate bear from his eighth birthday then wrapped it back up again,’ he said, looking back up at Shoma with a laugh. ‘Sho, you’re terrible!’  
‘You say that, but that was a good half-hour’s work to make it look like it was still whole – I think I should get credit for the commitment.’ Shoma stifled a yawn. Suddenly he felt exhausted and overwhelmed again; the bubble had burst and he was too tired to even be annoyed about it. Yuzuru smiled at him – fond and amused and somehow knowing – shaking his head and dropping the phone with a sigh.  
‘It’s late; we should sleep.’ He closed his eyes for a beat. ‘Tomorrow is going to be…a lot,’ he added, grimacing slightly, and Shoma nodded, looking down.  
‘Yeah. I guess.’ Yuzuru nudged him, and he glanced up; he offered him a small, understanding smile, quirking an eyebrow and tilting his head slightly.  
‘You can stay, if you want?’ Yuzuru said, voice hushed and kind, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile back at him, small and grateful.  
‘Do you mind?’ he asked, somewhat shyly. Yuzuru scrunched his nose at him, shaking his head. ‘I just…without being wiped out from the flight I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep. I hate hotel beds and different cities…I hate feeling so far away from everything, you know? But with you…I always feel like I know exactly where I am…like I’m home.’ Yuzuru reached up, grazing Shoma’s cheek with his knuckles and letting out a small, sympathetic hum.  
‘It’s fine. I will never mind you feeling at home with me,’ he said gently. Shoma looked down with a shrug, his smile growing timid again, and Yuzuru nudged him. ‘I mean it. Whatever you need, ok?’ Shoma nodded, looking at him from the corner of his eye.  
‘Thank you,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you for…just…everything, I guess.’ Yuzuru looked at him for a beat, offering him a sweet, gossamer smile, and Shoma felt his breath catch at the back of his throat, his cheeks hot and his whole body electric. And then, like it was just another night, Yuzuru let out a sigh and pushed himself up from the bed.

Shoma woke up too early. There were a few, faint raindrops drying on the large window and the city was curiously still outside; the sky was pale and grey at the edges, but along the line of high-rises at the edge of the city was a wash of soft yellows and sleepy oranges, the sun peeking out from a cluster of wispy cloud. The room was bathed in swirls of quiet gold, the light pale, delicate and warm, and Shoma watched the dust motes swirl amongst the faint sunbeams, blinking against the light as he focused, his mind slowly drifting back to where he was. Yuzuru was still asleep; Shoma was pressed against his back, and from where he was lying his outline was picked out in sunlight, like someone had applied gold leaf to his silhouette. He shifted carefully and Yuzuru let out a gentle hum in his sleep, moving his head against the pillow; his cheek was squashed, his chin tucked into his chest and his face still, peaceful and smiling faintly. Shoma held his breath, reaching out to run his finger along the curve of his ear. Yuzuru made another soft, sleepy sound, pressing back against Shoma lightly. His skin was warm and lit golden – he shone in the morning light. ‘Shoma, sleep,’ Yuzuru mumbled into his pillow, and Shoma froze, staring down at him for a beat. But his eyes didn’t open and the peace didn’t leave him. He looked so fragile; delicate, graceful and sweet, so beautiful it made Shoma ache. His heart stuttered, and he understood more than ever what Yuzuru meant when he talked about the power of memories, because he knew he would remember this moment forever, remember how much he wanted to stop everything so he could hold on to it and how it dragged through his fingertips as it slipped away. The air felt still and quiet, just for a heartbeat; he could feel change coming, could feel the rest of the world beginning to draw in and circle and take, take, take. And it was awful. But whatever happened, he wanted to remember the look on Yuzuru’s sleeping face and the feeling of the sunrise – whatever happened, he wanted to remember how he’d felt Yuzuru’s gravity, anchoring him into the world and reminding him that, as dreamlike as it had felt, he had been there, and it had been real.

Shoma left a note for Yuzuru on top of the sloppily-folded pile of the clothes he had lent him to sleep in and slipped out of the room as quietly as he could; he knew Yuzuru had to give an interview for Japanese morning television before the bus left for the scheduled Grey Zone visit later, and he didn’t want to wake him up sooner than was necessary. He was vaguely aware of the state he must look – his hair was all over the place and yesterday’s clothes were rumpled and scruffy – but no one seemed to be around, and he thought, for a moment, he had made it back to his room free-and-clear until someone grabbed a hold of his arm about ten seconds after he stepped out of the lift on his floor.  
‘You weren’t in your room last night.’ Shoma jerked to a halt and spun round, bewildered, and was met with Keiji’s vaguely accusatory, somewhat amused face.  
‘I mean…if you’re hoping this is news to me then…I had noticed, actually,’ Shoma shot back, and Keiji narrowed his eyes at him, folding his arms, unimpressed. Shoma sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. ‘I couldn’t sleep. So I went to Yuzu’s room. It’s not like I stayed out all night going wild or something,’ he muttered, and Keiji’s expression softened just a little as he let out the smallest of sighs, some hint of understanding in his eyes. He paused a moment, looking at Shoma seriously before taking a careful step closer and leaning in.  
‘Shoma…do you know what you’re doing?’ he asked, careful and gentle, and Shoma let out a soft huff of a laugh, the sound worn-out and humourless as he turned his eyes up to the ceiling with a groan.  
‘No…I don’t have a clue,’ he admitted quietly, and Keiji nodded again, his gaze kind and thoughtful. Shoma was too wrung-out from the mess of his thoughts to bother putting up any front, and he let Keiji find whatever it was he wanted to find in his expression.  
‘Does Yuzu know that?’ Keiji ventured at last, and Shoma offered him a small smile, looking down at the floor with a faint blush as he remembered the previous night.  
‘Yeah. Yuzu knows.’ Keiji nodded and reached out to give his arm a squeeze; Shoma looked up into his face somewhat nervously, and Keiji smiled at him, eyes solemn but warm in that quiet, reassuring way of his – he had a gaze that saw more than he ever let on and Shoma was grateful for his careful, level-headed approach. ‘Please tell me you haven’t been waiting by the lifts just to have this conversation with me?’ Shoma groaned slightly then, and Keiji laughed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.  
‘No, I was just heading down to breakfast when I saw you,’ he said, voice still curiously hushed and gentle, like he was trying to put Shoma at ease. ‘Sho…you say you don’t know what you’re doing but…can I ask you a question?’ Shoma bit his lip, tensing slightly, but he gave a small, uncertain nod all the same. ‘You and Yuzu. You’re friends, right?’ Shoma nodded again. ‘Just friends?’  
‘I’m not…we’re not…’ Shoma closed his mouth and looked down at the floor with a frustrated frown. ‘Yuzu isn’t “just” anything, to me,’ he murmured, looking cautiously up at Keiji, whose expression was still calm and unwavering, almost entirely impassive. ‘I don’t think I can answer the question you’re asking. And I…I guess you’re not the only one asking, but…it’s none of their business, you know? No one can have what has been deliberately kept from their view. It’s not theirs, it was never given to them. It’s mine. Only. So…I’d rather just…everyone let me be. And I’d definitely rather they let Yuzu be, because…he doesn’t get enough chance to just be, honestly. And he needs it more than they realise.’ Keiji nodded thoughtfully, offering Shoma a small smile.  
‘Ok. I do understand, you know. And…don’t worry, yeah? No one’s really asking so much. Except Javi, maybe. And Satton – who always knows everything anyway. I really just wanted to know because I care about you, that’s all; you’re one of the only sane people at the Foundation and I want you to stay that way, ok?’ His smile was briefly mischievous and Shoma laughed softly, nodding. ‘Whatever’s going on with you two, most people pretty much dismiss it as being about power, because they don’t know Yuzuru well enough to realise power isn’t the only thing that makes him tick. And for most of Team Japan…we’re used to no boundaries; yours and Yuzu’s friendship is hardly unusual in that sense. But if you feel you need a refuge from the questions, I’ll be there for you, ok?’  
‘Thank you,’ Shoma said quietly and Keiji smiled.  
‘I’ll save you a seat at breakfast?’ Shoma nodded, relief forcing a smile out of him.  
‘Sure. I’d like that. Just…don’t let on to Satton or Javi about…any of this? If they start asking me questions I think my brain might just explode…I don’t have the answers, you know? And it’s kind of terrifying being given the impression that other people know what’s going on in your head better than you do.’

Yuzuru was still nowhere to be seen by the time everyone was rounded up to get on the bus, but Shoma knew he was close; his energy felt thready and a little ragged, and his lightning less controlled than usual, like he was fraying at his edges, but Shoma knew better than to try and reach out when he was drawn so tightly, because when Yuzuru got like that, the last thing he needed was more power creeping in. He needed an actual hand to hold and someone to talk to him in a low whisper about nothing at all until he felt quieter. Shoma fidgeted in his seat and bit at his lip incessantly, his fingers twitching so much he had to clasp his hands together in his lap, his nails digging into his skin – he glanced over to where Tracy was standing, talking to the bus driver, effervescent as ever but with a strange, tense smile that didn’t quite suit her face. The same tense smile from Javier’s face. And, if Shoma had to guess, he’d say wherever Brian was he was probably smiling that same way too. None of them were comfortable taking Yuzuru back into a Grey Zone – Shoma wasn’t about to tell them how uncomfortable Yuzuru was with the idea, though, and no doubt Yuzuru’s smile was as wide and polished as it always was for these occasions, the manic edge just hidden enough to fool. It would take more than the PR smile to fool Shoma, though; Shoma had been able see through that ever since they’d met.

Shoma’s head jerked up at the sound of Brian’s voice, and he craned his neck slightly trying to see behind him to where Tracy was talking to someone almost out of view. Yuzuru. He caught his eye over Tracy’s shoulder and offered him a small, threadbare smile, and Shoma smiled back slightly, sliding back down in his seat with a sigh. It made him feel better to see him the same way it always did – Yuzuru was no calmer than he was, but somehow his presence made things seem settled and certain, made Shoma feel safe from whatever unpleasantness lay ahead for them. It also meant that Shoma could finally do something to soothe him in return, could finally offer the whispers and the contact Yuzuru craved. Tracy turned, following Yuzuru’s eyeline and smiling softly before looking back at him; Shoma faintly caught the words “…at least we brought my best Healer to look after you, right?” and he quickly looked away, curling back in his seat and gazing studiously out of the window until he felt the soft thwump of Yuzuru dropping into the seat beside him.

‘Thank you.’ Shoma looked over at him; his eyes were closed, his head tipped back slightly and his forehead creased with the faintest of frowns. Shoma tilted his head slightly and Yuzuru glanced across at him with a tiny smile, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘For not trying to make it better,’ he elaborated. Shoma’s lips twitched slightly at one corner, and he nodded slowly, glancing down for a beat before holding out his palm, keeping it low between their bodies and hidden from everyone else’s view. Yuzuru let out a small sigh of a laugh, his whole face briefly bright and brilliant and his eyes crinkling at the corners as he nodded slightly and accepted the offer, low-fiving Shoma before presenting his closed fist. Shoma bumped it then held out his little finger, only this time he didn’t let go after they shook hands, and Yuzuru let out a grateful hum, his whole body relaxing as he dropped his head to Shoma’s shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured again. ‘For not…pushing.’  
‘Sometimes it’s stupid to say “it’ll be ok” if it’s not how you feel,’ Shoma said quietly. ‘Sometimes a healing power is too much like telling someone how to react. You’ve never forced your power onto me like that. And I wouldn’t want to do that to you anyway.’ Although Yuzuru didn’t open his eyes, Shoma saw his lips twist into a smile as he nudged him softly in the side.  
‘You’re the smartest person I know.’  
‘Shame. You’re the dumbest I’ve ever met,’ Shoma replied, his voice still gentle even as he glanced down at Yuzuru with a sly smile, and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose, digging into his side again with his elbow. Shoma dropped his head on top of Yuzuru’s and sighed. ‘You’re still my favourite, though.’  
‘Then that’s all that counts, I guess,’ Yuzuru chuckled, squeezing Shoma’s finger with his own.

After a stop at the ministry for some more talks from important-looking people in suits, yet another photo opportunity and the arrival of the gaggle of invited officials, journalists and photographers assigned to document the Foundation’s Grey Zone visit, Shoma and Yuzuru had settled in different seats, as far back as possible from the press corps and hidden behind a protective bank of Team Japan; their hands were pressed together where they lay on their seats, but they kept their bodies a studious distance apart, eyes staring out of the window at the passing scenery as they listened to the prattle of journalists asking pointless questions and everyone giving their polished, proper answers in solemn tones.

Shoma felt the Grey Zone before he saw it; he sucked in a sharp breath, wincing slightly, and Yuzuru nudged comfortingly at his hand. ‘You ok?’ he asked, voice carefully quiet, his eyes flicking briefly across to where the press were getting their fill of context shots out of the Americans. Shoma managed a slow nod, swallowing the feeling down as best he could and concentrating on the road outside. It was strange, the way the colour slowly greyed out – he’d never really thought too much about what the edge of a Grey Zone would look like, but in his head it had always been something more defined, contained. It was unsettling to see the way the grey seemed to have stretched its fingers out into the world beyond. Like it was slowly creeping further, leeching and reaching and draining. Shoma closed his eyes to it. He felt Yuzuru begin to trace a pattern along the back of his hand and it coaxed out the slightest smile. ‘The dark is strong but you are stronger,’ Yuzuru said, slow and soft by Shoma’s ear. ‘The sun may have no colour here, but it does still shine, Shoma.’

Yuzuru was right. The light was strange and foggy, but it was there, picking out the subtle differences from one shade of grey to another. Everything was muted and subdued, even the people, who moved with a strange kind of heaviness, staring unseeingly ahead and not stopping to talk or wave or smile to anyone they passed. The feeling in the air was, unfortunately, not so quiet – it was strong enough that Shoma could tell even the others felt it, to an extent. Even blinking felt like an effort and the air was so dry that breathing in made Shoma wince. He glanced at Yuzuru and saw the faint pinch of the muscles in his face, and he turned his hand to lace their fingers together, understanding in a way that no one else could. To sense it – to feel it inside – was stifling and heavy. He understood what Yuzuru had meant when he said The Snatchers seemed to be snuffing out the colour, because it did feel a lot like someone was pressing down inside Shoma’s chest, clutching and clenching and shutting out the light; he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to take the direct hit Yuzuru had. ‘How do you stand it?’ he asked softly, his thumb brushing across the back of Yuzuru’s hand as he glanced up at him. Yuzuru pursed his lips, his eyes gazing out of the window in a glassy, dull stare that made Shoma wish they were alone so he could rest his head on his shoulder and hold his healing power to his chest until he smiled again, just gentle enough to blunt the edges of the knives inside.  
‘I don’t really,’ Yuzuru said somewhat distantly. ‘I guess I only do on the surface,’ he added, glancing at Shoma with a sad, wonky smile. ‘But you know that, right?’ Shoma squeezed his hand again; he swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment, focusing in on his power and pulling it back, shutting it down the way he always had whenever what he felt got too much. He was aware of Yuzuru watching him, but for a moment he had to ignore him, had to concentrate only on what he needed from his power; the steel and the shutters inside. When he opened his eyes again, Yuzuru was still watching, his expression softer and a little more curious. ‘I’ve never been able to do that,’ he sighed.  
‘Huh?’  
‘Turn it off,’ Yuzuru shrugged. Shoma looked at him with wide, surprised eyes.  
‘You sense all the time? And you don’t burn out?’ he asked. Yuzuru smiled a smile that was both amused and tragic and it made Shoma ache for him a little.  
‘I can sort of mute it, blunt it a little. But there is no switch for me. I’m not brave enough, I don’t think – to face the thought of not feeling it at all.’ Shoma looked up at him thoughtfully, closing the slight distance between them by nudging into Yuzuru’s shoulder.  
‘But…you could focus on me,’ he offered. Yuzuru’s forehead creased slightly; he studied Shoma’s face intently for a moment, understanding filtering in.  
‘Second-hand switch,’ he said, his expression almost mischievous just for a moment as he tilted his head to one side, and Shoma laughed slightly, rolling his eyes.  
‘Finally, a trick I can do that you can’t,’ he joked, elbowing Yuzuru gently. ‘All my tricks are out of sight,’ he added, tipping his head to one side with a sigh. ‘I wasn’t built to be a show off.’  
‘Hey,’ Yuzuru pouted and Shoma suppressed a smile. Yuzuru sat back a little, letting out a breath and closing his eyes. Even with his power to sense shut down, Shoma could still vaguely feel Yuzuru reaching; he was so strong, so electric, and Shoma knew the feeling of his lightning so well that a ghost of the now-familiar sensation still traced its way along his skin, making him shudder. He rubbed the back of Yuzuru’s hand with his thumb again.  
‘Well?’ he asked quietly. Yuzuru opened his eyes and smiled slightly.  
‘Better,’ he murmured, looking into Shoma’s face with wonder and profound gratitude. ‘I was right: the dark is strong, but you are stronger. There is warmth in place of shadows.’ Shoma glanced down, suddenly shy again. ‘You still feel like the sun, you know? It is not all power, I don’t think. It’s just…who you are.’  
‘Doesn’t it ever get exhausting, being right all the time?’ Shoma muttered softly, rolling his eyes and biting his lip to stop himself smiling, and Yuzuru laughed, nudging him in protest.  
‘Shut up, Trouble,’ he sighed, shaking his head, but he didn’t let go of Shoma’s hand – the giveaway that he still felt fragile, that the outside was still getting in.

It was already dark by the time they made it back to the hotel and there was – mercifully – only a small selection of twenty-four-hour news reporters waiting at the barrier for them as they filed off the coach and in through the glass doors. Most people’s reaction to the heavy atmosphere of the day was a sort of edgy restlessness, and in the lobby, as people gathered in their usual groups, full of chatter and hum and plans, Shoma pulled himself in, shying away from their energy even as he allowed himself to sense it. After a day of tuning out the noise, it was jarring to let the feeling back in; mixed in with the usual static of power and excitement was a sort of twitchy anxiety that stemmed from everyone wanting to get out and stretch their legs and cast off the oppressive air of the long, grey day they had just endured, and it was a lot to feel even second-hand. Shoma skirted around the edges of it all, offering the smallest nod of goodbye to Keiji before peeling away and heading for the lifts, where Yuzuru was already standing, his eyes down on his phone.

Shoma caught up with him just in time, slipping through the lift doors just before they closed and collapsing back against the wall with a relieved sigh, letting his body slump heavily into the far corner. He tipped his head back, closing his eyes for just a moment, and when he opened them Yuzuru cast an amused glance his way, one eyebrow arched and eyes glittering in the orange buzz of the lift’s lights.  
‘On the run from the law, Sho?’ he asked lightly, his smile mischievous even as he turned his gaze back to his phone, tapping out a reply to someone with quick fingers. Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Worse, Yuzu: I’m on the run from Wakaba. Why did you leave me to deal with her?’ he shot back, reaching across to kick Yuzuru’s shin when he laughed. ‘I think she’s decided she has to make up for Kana and Nobu not being here by being enthusiastic enough for both of them,’ he added with a wrinkle of his nose. ‘She’s trying to make all of Team Japan go out to this thing at Marina Bay and it sounds _loud_. I swear I was basically using Kazuki as a human shield.’ Yuzuru laughed again, looking up at Shoma and pulling a face of exaggerated terror.  
‘She’s still trying?! She even tried to convince me. And she knows I don’t leave my room during these things unless it’s literally a government requirement,’ he said, a silly smile scrunching up his face and making Shoma laugh. ‘What do you want for dinner?’ he asked then, turning back to his phone, and Shoma’s lips twitched into a small smile at the casual way he said it – like there was no question of whether or not Shoma was invited to hide from the world with him, like everything between them was already understood.  
‘I don’t know. Whatever is closest to food back home.’ He narrowed his eyes at Yuzuru slightly, smile turning wicked. ‘But none of that rubbish you like, Hanyu. I want real food not rabbit food,’ he added, and Yuzuru laughed, kicking his ankle without looking up from what he was typing on his phone.  
‘Ungrateful,’ he declared with a faint pout, flicking a sparkling glance up at Shoma. ‘You’re such a pest – I shouldn’t be nice to you at all.’ Shoma stuck his tongue out.  
‘It’s not my fault you don’t have taste, Yuzu.’  
‘Joke’s on you: you insult me, you insult yourself,’ Yuzuru shrugged, finally pocketing his phone with an obnoxiously bright smile just as the lift reached his floor. Shoma frowned.  
‘Huh?’ Yuzuru spun back out of the lift like it was choreography, backing down the hallway and fixing Shoma with an impish, dazzling smile, eyes wide and glinting.  
‘I spend all my time with you, Shoma – you’re my basically favourite human,’ He shrugged again, spinning back around with a hum. ‘But I have no taste, so I guess that means you must be _awful_ , huh?’ He looked back over his shoulder at Shoma, who attempted to glower at him, giving him a small shove in the back.  
‘Why are you like this?!’ he groaned and Yuzuru laughed, unapologetic and ridiculous, forcing Shoma into the smallest of smiles as he rolled his eyes despairingly. ‘I’m going to beat you at every game tonight and I’m not even going to pretend to be sorry.’

They trailed down the corridor, Yuzuru dropping back so that they were walking alongside each other and occasionally barging his shoulder against Shoma’s, shooting him roguish smiles and laughing when Shoma barged him right back. Yuzuru moved with a rhythmic rattle as his lanyard swung back and forth around his neck, and Shoma shoved him with a deliberate disregard for his timing, picking his moments just right to make Yuzuru half-stumble away from him, glaring playfully and kicking at Shoma’s heels in retaliation. Yuzuru’s room was at the far end of the corridor, and he pulled his keycard from his pocket with a flourish as they approached the door, executing a graceful spin towards it whilst Shoma rolled his eyes. ‘Are you drunk or just a total state?’ he asked, smile sly, and Yuzuru pulled a face.  
‘I think drunk and just-glad-this-day-is-over are probably easily confused, right?’ Shoma laughed softly, pursing his lips and letting out a faint groan.  
‘Well when you put it like that,’ he huffed. Yuzuru smiled, nodding slowly, and turned to open the door.

Shoma moved to follow him into his room when suddenly he paused, looking back and tipping his head on one side playfully, eyes sparkling as he blocked Shoma’s path.  
‘If I shut you out in the corridor right now, how long do you think it would take Waka to find you?’ he asked, voice dripping with faux-sweetness, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘I would unapologetically destroy you,’ he deadpanned, and Yuzuru laughed brightly, scrunching his face up at Shoma in that way of his which was as delighted as it was affectionate. ‘You laugh, but I know all your passcodes and I have your second keycard. Ending you would be ten minutes’ work, at most,’ Shoma added, eyes twinkling wickedly as he pursed his lips to stop his smile from breaking, and Yuzuru laughed again, rolling his eyes.  
‘How do you have my other keycard?!’ he asked. Shoma shrugged.  
‘Stole it. Accidentally, in my defence,’ he said. ‘I found three in my pocket when I went back to my room this morning.’ Yuzuru shook his head, suppressing another laugh and opening the door a little wider.  
‘Come on then, Stalker,’ he sighed, lifting his arm up and allowing Shoma to slip through under it. ‘You’re a terrible friend.’  
‘And you’re just terrible. So I guess we match,’ Shoma said, casting a sly smile back over his shoulder, and Yuzuru looked over at him with unguarded fondness.  
‘Why do you always make your compliments sound like insults, Sho?’ he asked, tilting his head slightly. Shoma shrugged.  
‘I think people know there’s more honesty in them that way. I could tell you that you’re wonderful every day and it’d become cheap. It wouldn’t be any less true, maybe. But it would feel like it was. So I tell you: you are so much of a disaster it’s wonderful. And that sounds more real, don’t you think?’ Yuzuru’s smile softened, and he walked over to Shoma, touching a light finger to his cheek.  
‘That is a very Shoma way of looking at the world,’ he said thoughtfully, leaning in a little. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. ‘A superior way of looking at the world, I think,’ he declared, and Shoma glanced down.  
‘Now you’re just fishing for praise,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru laughed, his breath tickling Shoma’s face.  
‘Shush, you,’ he sighed, smacking Shoma’s shoulder lightly. ‘I could still kick you out, you know.’  
‘Please, like you would ever: you adore me,’ Shoma said, pulling a face and taking a deep, steadying breath, stepping back into the room a little and throwing down his jacket. Yuzuru simply smiled at him, biting back a laugh.  
‘Adore is one way to put it. But I would rather say…that of everyone I’ve ever known? I think maybe I’ve gotten the most used to you being around.’ His eyes were smiling and Shoma felt his chest constrict at the sight; he wasn’t teasing, he was revelling in the idea that something could be so simple and yet so precious, and Shoma bit his lip, committing the expression to memory as one of those curious, Yuzuru expressions that conveyed so much so easily it was overwhelming.  
‘So…that’s a no on kicking me out, right? Because you’ve kind of become my main source of food,’ Shoma said, shy and mischievous at the same time, and Yuzuru laughed, flicking his forehead.  
‘Sho!’ He scrunched his nose and threw his head back in another soft laugh, and Shoma rolled his eyes, fighting off a smile and jabbing him in the ribs with his elbow.  
‘Why do you always make my name sound like a complaint?’  
‘Because you always give me so much to complain about!’  
‘Mean.’ Shoma paused, tipping his head and letting his smile slowly curl his lips at one corner. ‘Probably fair, though,’ he conceded, and Yuzuru smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of Shoma’s fringe back into place.  
‘But you give a lot to be happy about also, Shoma. And I know I’m a pain too, so…it’s probably a good trade.’  
‘Hey, at least it’s never boring,’ Shoma shrugged, smile light and eyes sparkling as Yuzuru shot him a sunny smile.  
‘A better friend would’ve said I wasn’t a pain.’  
‘Then go find a better friend, Hanyu.’  
‘Impossible.’  
‘Urgh; you’re so soft.’  
‘Don’t even pretend you don’t adore me right back.’  
‘No comment. Now stop stalling: it’s time to let me beat you at a game of my choice. I’m not showing any mercy on you tonight.’  
‘And to think, poor Waka missed out on you and your angelic mood, huh?’  
‘She’s _devastated_.’  
‘Her loss, my gain, I guess.’

The two of them sat up on the window ledge, one at each end; there was space enough that Shoma had to stretch to kick Yuzuru when he tried to distract him, almost overbalancing three times and glowering when Yuzuru laughed and applauded his feats of balance in staying up. The city twinkled and shimmered beyond the large hotel window, looking unreal and glorious – Shoma noticed the way the city’s colours made Yuzuru’s skin seem almost golden, the way the light caught at his edges and made him glow and hum in the space he occupied, ridiculous and beautiful. There should have been nothing remarkable about him at all when he was like this – his hair messy, his sighs happy and his eyes tired but content – but Yuzuru couldn’t be ordinary if he tried, especially not to Shoma. He was everything everyone had ever made him out to be, but he was, most definitely, none of it at the same time; he was rougher around the edges than he looked, and some of his colours bled out between the lines, seeping into the air around him and lighting it up with sparks. Anything could happen when you were in his orbit, but Shoma was so certain of him that, for a little while at least, the not knowing wasn’t terrifying. There was a stupid smile on his face as finally set his phone aside and decided to watch Shoma play on. Shoma found it hideously distracting, and he attempted to glare at him over his phone.  
‘Are you trying to beat me with mind games now?’  
‘I like watching you concentrate. You go all golden at your edges; it’s pretty.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Shut up.’  
‘Haven’t you learned by now? I never do.’ Shoma rolled his eyes, setting down his phone and pulling his knees up to his chest with a sigh, staring back at Yuzuru for a moment.  
‘Actually…I think I’d worry if you did,’ he admitted quietly, his forehead briefly creasing into a frown. ‘You’re loud: you’re supposed to be. Your power is loud and your laugh is loud and you don’t have an off switch. Your whole existence is loud because you need to be heard.’ He rested his chin on his knees with a sigh. ‘If you go quiet, so much goes quiet with you. I can’t imagine it. And I don’t want to.’ For a moment Yuzuru studied him – Shoma could feel the path his eyes travelled, could almost sense the way he took in the city lights playing off his face, just as he had done himself before, when he hadn’t thought Yuzuru was paying attention. His head was tipped to one side, his hair falling in his eyes and a pale smile curving at one corner of his lips, and Shoma looked back at him with quiet, dark eyes and an open expression – waiting, but not sure what it was he was waiting for.

The moment was cut by the sound of a knock on the door, and both of them jumped, looking over with slightly startled faces. Yuzuru broke first, letting out a soft laugh and wrinkling his nose, glancing across at Shoma somewhat ruefully and coaxing a tiny, overwhelmed sound from the back of his throat that was almost a laugh but came out more like a sigh.  
‘Javi,’ Yuzuru said, rolling his eyes and jumping down from the window ledge to answer the door. Shoma took the opportunity to draw in a much-needed breath; he looked studiously out of the window, taking an unnecessary amount of interest in the traffic moving in neat, clockwork rows beneath them and wishing his cheeks didn’t feel so hot. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

‘Room service,’ Javier joked as Yuzuru opened the door, but Shoma didn’t pay much attention to whatever Yuzuru’s reply was, letting his voice simply wash over him instead; he liked the amused, exasperated edge to it, was drawn, as ever, to the humanity it betrayed in someone who could otherwise seem so entirely unearthly it was terrifying. The light from the doorway cast the mostly-dark room in strange yellowish hues, and Shoma found his gaze wandering to the reflection of Yuzuru’s delicate, sinewy silhouette in the doorway. He dimly heard the roguish, honeyed timbre of Javier’s voice drift in from the hallway, and he closed his eyes, wondering, not for the first time, if the universe was trying to tell him something – because no matter how alone they seemed, the outside world still kept finding its way back in, reminding him that Yuzuru wasn’t really his to keep. ‘…I’m guessing you have company tonight, right?’ Javier was saying, and Shoma felt himself blushing again, looking back out at the city and pulling himself in a little more tightly. He didn’t hear Yuzuru’s reply, but he saw him close the door a little, saw him lean against it tiredly and drop his voice to a warning whine. Shoma almost smiled; it was simultaneously protective and childish, something imperfect and sweet and somehow very Yuzuru. Shoma appreciated it, was grateful for how strongly he understood that feeling too; he didn’t like the way other people talked – but it was the price of being around Yuzuru, he supposed, because Yuzuru couldn’t help but be talked about, and if you spent enough time in his orbit then your name would get made into a part of his mythology. Shoma resented the idea of any part of their time together getting sucked into other people’s fictions and – as well meaning as they might be – he wished the others would stop, would realise it wasn’t up for discussion. Yuzuru meant something to him, and he meant something to Yuzuru; it was that simple, to them at least. He didn’t want others threading in their whispers and words, making it strain at the seams. ‘…sure, whatever you say, Yuzu. I will believe it when you stop smiling so wide it is blinding. You two enjoy yourselves doing…whatever it is shut-ins do. Call me if you need anything, I’m only going as far as Boat Quay with Luca and Eric and some of the other old-timers, so it’s cool for me to cut out, they’re all guys who’ll understand, ok?’  
‘You worry about me too much, you know that?’  
‘Because you don’t worry about yourself enough.’ There was the sound of vague protest from Yuzuru followed by Javier’s warm laugh. ‘Goodnight, Yuzu,’ he said, fond and firm as Yuzuru began to close the door on him. ‘And goodnight to you too, Shoma! Because I _know_ you’re in there!’ he just managed to call out before the door thunked shut in his face. Shoma turned, catching Yuzuru’s eye and laughing as he pulled a face.  
‘He’s ridiculous, right?!’ Yuzuru shrugged, coming back across to the window ledge with a carrier bag of food cartons. ‘Annoying.’  
‘As long as he doesn’t tell Waka where I am? It’s fine,’ Shoma smiled, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug. ‘She would have zero problems with dragging us both out with Team Japan, food or not.’ Yuzuru laughed.  
‘Maybe we should be sheltering more of her victims, huh? Keiji looked like he wanted a quiet night pretty badly when I saw him last.’ Shoma smirked, feigning a grimace.  
‘It’s Kazuki I feel sorry for. He’s probably loving every second because he kind of sees the good in everything ever and I have no idea how he does it. But I still feel bad…I pretty much threw him in at the deep end and bolted – and he’s cool, you know? He doesn’t mind that I’m a cynic or treat me like a total disaster. And he’s always chilled out, which makes a nice change from how intense the rest of Team Japan are.’ Yuzuru glanced up at him, crossing his eyes.  
‘What’s wrong with intense, hey?!’ he pouted playfully. Shoma smiled.  
‘Nothing. As long as it’s you.’ Yuzuru’s eyes shone as he looked up into Shoma’s face.  
‘What are you being so sweet for?’  
‘Maybe because you’re the best. But…also to make sure you hand over the food.’

Yuzuru laughed slightly, an endearing pink blush high on his cheeks as he pulled a face at Shoma and began placing the food on the window ledge in front of him. He divided the cartons up between the two of them and Shoma felt a blissful smile spread across his face at the familiar smell of Asian spices; it wasn’t quite as good as Japanese food, but it was close enough to home to be cheering, and with Yuzuru humming absently around beside him it was hard to wish he was anywhere else. Yuzuru looked at him like he knew and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.  
‘Here, take these, you little brat,’ Yuzuru sighed, rolling his eyes fondly and handing Shoma some chopsticks from the bag before setting it down on the side and pulling himself back up to sit opposite Shoma in the window. He watched for a moment with a mixture of affection and disbelief as Shoma dug in to his food without any regard for table manners or etiquette, attacking his meal like someone who hadn’t eaten for a week.  
‘Ok, I’ll deny it if you go public with this information? But seriously, this trip would suck without you around,’ Shoma said, mouth full, and Yuzuru laughed, shaking his head.  
‘Can I get that in writing?’ he asked, picking up his own chopsticks and digging in, and Shoma shot him a wicked smile.  
‘Not a hope. Sorry.’ Yuzuru suppressed a smile, throwing a balled-up napkin Shoma’s way, and Shoma simply laughed as he ducked, smiling smugly at Yuzuru when the missile missed its mark.

The two of them settled back into idle conversation, enjoying the food and the dance of the city lights beyond the window; no part of Shoma felt at all like he was missing out by skipping the others’ tourist plans. He couldn’t imagine there was anywhere better to be than sitting opposite Yuzuru, messily eating his food and trying not to laugh at Yuzuru’s attempts to keep the window ledge somewhere close to presentable as he fussed about with empty cartons and napkins, stacking and folding and shooting Shoma fond glares. As Yuzuru finally sat back with a sigh to gaze down thoughtfully at the traffic below, the two of them fell into an easy silence, Shoma giving him the time to think. He recognised the look of concentration on his face; Yuzuru was always thinking about something, always letting some idea bubble away in the back of his mind, but usually he was all enthusiasm and rush, ready to get the words out even if they were in the wrong order. Whatever was inside his head now was something bigger, something he was invested in, and Shoma understood the importance of that.

‘After what you said last night, I looked back over some of the Grey Zone data to see if the Alliance really could be involved.’ Shoma looked up in surprise when he finally spoke; whatever he had expected, it wasn’t that. Yuzuru’s eyes were down, a furrow of concentration on his forehead as he stabbed unnecessarily at his food with his chopsticks, playing with it more than making any effort to eat.  
‘How did you even find the time to?!’ Shoma asked, and Yuzuru’s face lightened instantly as he looked up at him, his lips curving up into a soft smile.  
‘After you fell asleep,’ he shrugged. Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Do you ever just…rest?’ he asked through a smile and Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘Sometimes. Anyway, you looked happy curled up on my pillow – I wanted to make sure you were properly dead to the world before I disturbed you by trying to reclaim my place.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Sure, so this is all my fault,’ he muttered, unimpressed.  
‘I mean…it was your idea I was researching, so…’ Yuzuru said, widening his eyes to emphasise the point, and they both stared at each other for a beat before breaking down into laughter and looking away. ‘But you actually were onto something, Shoma. About no one really knowing what the Alliance do? I mean…did you know no one has seen any of their high-profile people with powers for years? Their friends and family hear from them sometimes, but never in person – doesn’t that seem strange to you?’  
‘Creepy,’ Shoma said, wrinkling his nose in distaste, and Yuzuru nodded.  
‘Right?!’ he said, shuddering for effect. ‘It makes me even more grateful your mum didn’t want you with them.’ He paused then, looking down and worrying at his lip, the frown back on his forehead again. ‘I can’t imagine the Foundation without you, the _world_ without you; how dark that would be.’ Shoma swallowed and looked out of the window, his lips twitching into a half-smile. ‘Anyway, when I went through the data there was a pattern. The Alliance weren’t in all the Grey Zones, but they were always close – so I dug harder. It took a little creative research, but I was able to prove that they have offices in a twenty-mile radius of every Grey Zone, sometimes inside them but not enough to have raised any flags for us before. And you want to know the strangest part, Sho?’ Shoma looked up, eyebrows raised. ‘They’re one of the only companies who ever move offices _into_ the Grey Zones.’ Shoma scrunched up his face into a frown.  
‘But why would they do that?’ he asked. ‘Half the time people in the Grey Zones try to get out before it gets impossible; who is going to want to go and work in an office inside one?’ Yuzuru shrugged, his expression pained.  
‘They must employ people who don’t make it out, I guess.’ He tilted his head, licking his lips slightly as he took a moment to push back thoughts of home. ‘They’re the Power For Productivity Alliance, right? So…maybe that’s what they’re really about.’  
‘What do you mean?’ Shoma asked gently.  
‘People in the Grey Zones don’t really have much left in their worlds but work, Shoma. And I mean…the most basic work: tasks you can put in front of them for them to repeat endlessly. They work hard, they don’t complain…they don’t remember colour or magic or…really much of any other life but whatever routine is set out for them to follow. Without the distraction of memories and emotions and dreams, it is almost fun for them to fill their days with chores they can find some sort of rhythm in. It’s awful for creativity, but…for getting a bunch of people to do crappy, boring tasks for next to no pay and with zero complaint…’ Shoma stilled, lowering his food and glancing out at the city for a beat.  
‘Are you serious – they’re actually within range of every Grey Zone? Even these ones in Singapore?’ he asked in a small, nervous voice, trying to imagine that some dark force was really lurking somewhere out in the shimmering city below. Yuzuru nodded sadly.  
‘More or less…but not always directly,’ he said. ‘When I looked, I was able to trace a whole bunch of other companies back to them – with investments and contracts and subsidiaries. When you put these things together and follow them all back to the source, you find the Alliance are behind the majority of the companies which operate out of Grey Zones. It’s buried well, but…I can match them to every Grey Zone, Shoma. I went through some old notes and documents…it built a whole picture. Sometimes the connections go through governments and countries and companies…and it’s been mixed up deliberately to distort the picture, I think. It’s been done with skill, but they couldn’t do it without leaving some trace. And what I was able to follow? It proved it _always_ comes back to them, every time. No sum to do: just 100%, you know? No matter how convoluted the path may be, they are always there.’ Shoma’s throat felt dry and he tried to swallow, shaking his head.  
‘But that still doesn’t mean they’re causing it…right?’ He couldn’t help thinking of all the times he and his family had dumped the Alliance’s correspondence in the bin without a though, never once considering the possibility they could be far-reaching enough to be dangerous, never worrying they might be the kind of organisation to be displeased at not getting their way. And what would happen? If they didn’t get their way eventually? How far would they go to steal out one of the Foundation’s own from under their noses?  
‘I don’t know anything for sure, Shoma. But it’s the only pattern I’ve ever even come close to finding,’ Yuzuru whispered tiredly. ‘So…I guess the question is: at what point does it become something you have to see as a deliberate thing? A few companies here and there is one thing, but I’ve never known a check come back to the same name from every Grey Zone. And the locations of their offices…it’s almost too crazy, like it has to be a coincidence because otherwise it’s almost…too perfectly judged. I can’t imagine what they would want or why they would do it – but I think they must be responsible for all of this somehow. I just…have no real proof. It’s not something we can go to a government with, especially with how far-reaching the Alliance have become. But I still feel it, you know? I just…I feel like I’ve finally found the link. It’s just an instinct. And we need to find a way to draw out the how and the why, so that maybe it becomes less of a crazy thing to say. Accusations need more answers and more proof.’ Shoma pursed his lips.  
‘But it’s…’ He looked up into Yuzuru’s face. ‘It’s just crazy, Yuzu.’ Yuzuru sighed, looking down with a small, sad nod.  
‘That’s what I thought too. But…it could explain so much, Sho. I don’t know understand what it is they could hope to achieve from it…but I don’t think it can be a coincidence that they’re so tied up in all this. And the more I dug the more I found; they’re _everywhere_ now, and the timeline for the growth of their company lines up almost exactly with the spread of the Grey Zones – I made a chart. Plus, they’re really pushing hard for the Foundation project to be scrapped. I found articles suggesting they were against the Foundation from the start, even in the days when it was first begun and Brian was everyone’s idea of a hero.’ Yuzuru looked down at his hands, wincing slightly. ‘They’ve done so many reports on me too. I don’t even know where they got half the information from – the tests when I was a kid maybe? They want more done; they imagine they can disprove everything I am and make the world see their way is the only practical one by disentangling the Grey Zone problem from all the stupid myths about me. They say if I do have as much power as the Foundation makes out then it’s being wasted, that I’m lost potential and the only use for me now would be to see if testing me could help them harness my power somehow. Or create more people like me. There are many things put out by them about me maybe being Brian’s project – an invention…or…creation, maybe…powerful because of some trick he has played and not because it is really something in me. There’s a lot of stuff about how I’m probably an experiment gone wrong, actually…so…that was fun to know.’  
‘ _Yuzu_.’ Shoma let it out like a sigh; a wound and a wish and a breath, somehow an admission of everything he felt for him and a defiant protest against anyone who tried to belittle any part of this ridiculous, precious human who conjured petals just on the off-chance it might make someone somewhere smile.  
‘It’s fine,’ Yuzuru whispered, still looking down, and Shoma shook his head determinedly.  
‘It’s not,’ he insisted, and Yuzuru swallowed, curling in on himself and looking out at the city distantly.  
‘It doesn’t mean anything. I know my power…I know they’re wrong about it.’ He smiled a sad, lopsided smile, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I know the consequences of staying on the stage I’m on – I might not think that what I do should become what it has, but that is how the world is. And I can’t not do these things…what else would I do? Where else would I go? I know my path and I stand by it. I can’t help who I am or where it takes me, I just have to hope that…eventually it will be enough to help those who need it most. Not because I want to be proved right, but because I don’t want anyone to have any need to prove points any longer…I want the world to not be fractured. I want magic to breathe – even in the quietest corners, not just the big cities. I want people to believe in things again.’  
‘Then they should start by believing in you, Yuzu,’ Shoma whispered, soft and earnest, and Yuzuru finally met his gaze. His eyes were glassy and damp, but they shone with the city lights, and when he looked at Shoma he smiled a smile so soft and delicate it made him shiver. ‘Stop chasing after the ghosts all the time; they’re not going anywhere, but they don’t need to. You are…magic. You’re magic, Yuzu. And maybe the ghosts get in just like they do for everyone else. But that makes you human – that makes you better than some story or legend or myth, because you’re as messed up as everyone else but you still made it through, and you never lost that ability to believe in things no matter what. You’re everything everyone says you are, but you’re not defined by that. You’re just…you. By some miracle, you’re real. And you’re magic. And you’re…Yuzu.’ Yuzuru studied him for a moment, that half-smile still curving his lips; he looked pretty and painted against the washed-out light that came through the window, ethereal but still fragile.  
‘If the whole world looked with your eyes, Shoma, maybe all of this would be so much easier,’ Yuzuru murmured into the quiet. ‘But still…I’m glad they don’t. I like that it is something rare. It helps remind me not to take it for granted; that you are here, that you look at me with your eyes that see so much more than anyone else’s. I never want to take it for granted that I have had the chance to know you, and most importantly? To be seen by your eyes.’ Shoma’s lips quirked into a small, shy smile and he looked up at Yuzuru from under his fringe, laughing slightly.  
‘With my eyes and your words, maybe we could take over the world,’ he hummed playfully, and Yuzuru laughed, his whole face brilliant and delighted again, like a broken spell in the half-light.  
‘Or we could just save it,’ he suggested with an impish smile, his eyes twinkling, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh, half-groaning as he tipped his head back.  
‘In the morning, Yuzu, I’m _tired_ ,’ he said in a joking whine, and Yuzuru pursed his lips, quirking an eyebrow.  
‘The morning, Sho? Are you sure about that?’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Ok. Maybe in the afternoon.’ He paused, tipping his head and pretending to consider it a little more. ‘But only after lunch. And you’re going to have to bring snacks.’ Yuzuru let out a delighted peal of laughter so full it warmed Shoma right through.

They fell into silence once more, and after a moment Yuzuru slid elegantly down from the window, gathering up the empty food containers and busying himself with tidying the room, folding his and Shoma’s jackets and putting away his discarded ID passes in his backpack; Shoma watched him silently, leaning back contentedly against the window and enjoying the easiness of it all. The world had receded further and further into the distance, pulling out and away from them – somewhere in the back of his mind, Shoma realised this was also how the edge of the ocean was before the biggest waves, but he tried not to dwell on the thought, choosing instead to just enjoy the smooth, still patch of sand they were standing on for a while longer. He stretched, long and languid, yawning and rubbing at his eyes – his head was muzzy and his limbs were heavy, but going back to his room still seemed like too much of an effort. Yuzuru looked back at him, faintly amused.  
‘Long day, huh?’ he remarked, folding his arms and coming to stand in front of Shoma, who bobbed his head in a sleepy nod. ‘It’s late.’ He looked up at him thoughtfully, eyes bright and smile bright, but whatever it was he was trying to read in his face, he clearly didn’t find an answer there, his smile quietening as he glanced away. ‘We should get some rest. Tomorrow is an early start. And the drive to Malaysia is going to take forever.’ Shoma looked down at his bowed head, caught for a moment by his new vantage point and finding something fascinating in the way the shadows played so differently off his features from the higher angle; his cheekbones were more pronounced and his lips seemed a darker shade of pink, the sore spot where he sometimes bit at them when preparing to put on one of his many personas looking raw and red as he worried at it. Without really thinking, Shoma reached up and touched a hand to Yuzuru’s chin, brushing the pad of his thumb along the sore skin at his lip and applying the slightest pressure there. He grazed along the reddened skin gently, tenderly – just firm enough to pull a little at Yuzuru’s lip, and Yuzuru’s dark, starry gaze slowly lifted up to Shoma’s face. There was the faintest dusting of gold in the air between them as a hint of Shoma’s healing power settled into Yuzuru’s skin, and he swallowed, watching Shoma with unquestioning trust.

‘Are you ok?’ Shoma whispered, his fingers curling back slightly as he held his body tense and still, a bubble of air trapping itself just beneath his ribs and stealing his breath as he carefully pushed himself a little closer to the edge of the window ledge.  
‘Yeah,’ Yuzuru murmured, giving a vague nod, his eyes still roaming Shoma’s face. There was a hesitance there – but because he was Yuzuru there was still certainty too, a knowingness about his expression that was disorientating. The faint curve of his smile was like a dream, and everything seemed to blur at the edges when Shoma looked into his face. All he could sense in him in that moment was a contradiction; he was anxious and peaceful and sad, he was delighted and he was terrified. He was calm, but still as restless as ever. Okay was so far from the right word, but it wasn’t a lie – and Yuzuru knew he knew the truth, was laying himself open to Shoma’s power without reservation, vulnerable and total and quiet.  
‘I should go,’ Shoma said faintly, but he didn’t attempt to move, instead tracing his fingers down Yuzuru’s neck and smiling slightly when he shivered and let his eyes flutter closed for a beat. Shoma looked at the fan of his lashes, the way the muscles of his face untensed just a little as he ran his fingers along where Yuzuru’s collarbone was ever so slightly exposed – his shirt was rumpled and twisted, and Shoma played absently with the hem. ‘I don’t want to go,’ Shoma admitted softly. Yuzuru opened his eyes.  
‘So don’t.’ Shoma’s eyes snapped up to meet his gaze, and Yuzuru licked his lips, drawing in a deep breath. ‘Don’t go. Stay.’ He offered Shoma a tiny smile – shy but still somehow determined. ‘You know, we probably have enough power between us to actually stop the world turning, just for a little while.’ Shoma laughed – a soft sigh of a sound that was mostly caught in the back of his throat as he glanced away for a moment, taking a shuddery breath.  
‘If we really had that kind of power, wouldn’t we have stopped it days ago? Wouldn’t we have learned our lesson about how quick the outside is to find its way back in and just kept it on pause indefinitely?’ When he looked back into Yuzuru’s eyes, he found his expression was wistful and gentle and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  
‘But what’s a few ghosts between us, huh?’ he asked, lips twisting into a wry smile, and Shoma let out another small laugh, shaking his head slightly and looking down as he blew out a breath. He swallowed, trying to ignore how quickly his heart was beating and the sensation of goosebumps rising on his arms as he braced himself on his hands, carefully lowering himself down from the window ledge and more fully into the circle of Yuzuru’s space. Yuzuru didn’t step back, only shifting enough to let him down; their bodies were close enough that Shoma could feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate off him, could feel it to his bones.

For a moment Yuzuru regarded him with a half-smile, his eyes shining with the reflections of the city beyond the window and his whole energy suddenly soft and swaying, like a string of lights or the sound of music drifting in through an open window; Shoma leant into it, allowed it inside, relished the sensation of a late summer breeze being undercut by the barest whisper of electricity. They simply stared at each other for a beat – but it wasn’t their usual game of dares and challenges, both of them too still and too silent and too wide-eyed. And then, without really realising he was moving, Shoma rose up onto his tiptoes and pressed a single quick kiss to Yuzuru’s lips. He blinked, strangely startled by himself as he drew back, shaking his head slightly and drawing in a nervous breath; his smile was embarrassed and faint and he swallowed hard, pressing his lips together and tasting sea salt and lightning there as he moved to walk away. He turned his eyes down, closing them for a moment to steady himself before twisting to step out of Yuzuru’s space, but Yuzuru caught his arm, spinning him back and taking him by surprise. And Shoma let himself be pulled back, taking in a sharp breath of surprise, uncertain and hesitant until he felt Yuzuru’s hand on his waist. Before Shoma could process what was happening, Yuzuru’s cool fingers had curled against his neck, and Shoma drew himself up towards him at the touch, his eyes closing as Yuzuru’s lips met his own once more. The kiss was slow as they twisted together, Shoma’s chest pressing into Yuzuru’s for a moment as they pushed at each other; Yuzuru’s height meant Shoma had to work to meet his mouth, and Yuzuru had to hold him more tightly to keep the force between their bodies, but there was a grace in it that made Shoma’s heart turn over in his chest. Yuzuru’s hand grazed his jawline and he almost sighed into the touch, his own hand drifting briefly to Yuzuru’s neck, his fingers curling into his hair. The world had either stopped, or started spinning fast enough to blur, and Shoma had no concept of time at all.

He half-fell back from the kiss with a stutter of breath, coming down from his tiptoes and blinking his eyes open to stare up into Yuzuru’s face, wide and questioning. And Yuzuru stared down at him – lost and hopeful and full of wild wonder. The light from the window refracted in kaleidoscope patterns at the edges of Shoma’s vision, and he parted his lips just slightly, drawing in a small breath as if to speak but not finding any words enough, and Yuzuru looked at him, waiting patiently the way he always did, hanging on Shoma’s words like they were clues he wanted to solve. Yuzuru’s fingers were resting at Shoma’s neck, light and gentle, but still sending static across his skin, and in Yuzuru’s eyes were the traces of gold and amber which crept in whenever Shoma’s power washed over him – the wave Shoma had been bracing himself for was probably about to break any moment, the sand starting to shift beneath them already, but he didn’t care. Yuzuru’s lips twitched at one corner – a question and a smile at once – and instinctively they both drew in again. Yuzuru’s lips tasted of his ridiculous marshmallow lip balm, the stuff in the container shaped like a cat that Shoma always rolled his eyes at; it was a sweet, silly detail, something Shoma noted absently in the back of his mind, because it was the only kind of information he was able for in that moment, and because he realised he had picked up so much of it along the way, useless Yuzuru facts that all made him smile no matter how seemingly dull or mundane. Hums and habits. Smiles. Frowns. Yuzuru, everywhere. Shoma smiled into the kiss, enjoying the light that fizzed behind his eyes and letting Yuzuru wrap him up in lightning and thunder and everything he was – a whole universe of Yuzuru, all his.

Eventually, the wave came when Shoma had stopped bracing for it. The sound was dull and distant, something Shoma didn’t process at first because all he could hear was Yuzuru’s thunder and all he knew was the knot of ribbons in his chest. But Yuzuru pulled back, slow and soft, and when Shoma opened his eyes and blinked up at him he expected either another kiss or some explanation for the pause. And then the knock sounded again. ‘Oh,’ Shoma murmured, blinking his eyes more rapidly, still faintly uncomprehending.  
‘Yuzu?’ came a voice from the other side of the door. Shoma looked over with solemn, curious eyes, wrongfooted and lost, a small frown briefly crossing his face before he blinked again to clear it.  
‘Oh,’ he said again, this time a harsher sound as he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to recover himself. Yuzuru was looking over at the door too, his expression conflicted, but then Shoma felt his body move back, felt his power recede and saw his expression shift as he blew out a breath. And he knew. Yuzuru would always answer, when the outside world called – he had to, it was his role in the world whether he had chosen it or not, and unlike Shoma he had no concept of how to be gracelessly, unapologetically anti-social. Shoma swallowed hard, looking down, and Yuzuru’s fingers drifted away as he awkwardly drew back from him, stepping around him and flicking on the desk lamp as he headed over to the door. Shoma swayed back a little, his cheeks flushed and his skin still dancing with the aftershock of lightning bolts as he shifted awkwardly on the spot, not sure where to look or how to act and wincing as the light turned the room a shabby yellow hue.

Yuzuru opened the door to a smiley, oblivious Brian, who patted him warmly on the shoulder as he was invited into the room; he glanced over and spotted Shoma, nodding to him, bright and unsurprised, seeming not to notice Shoma’s mussed hair or the sparks and petals and ribbons Shoma was certain were still lingering in the suddenly-heavy air.  
‘Sorry to stop by so late, I know it’s an early start tomorrow but I thought we should talk: I looked over the information you sent and did some digging of my own that I thought you might like to know about.’ Yuzuru wasn’t looking him in the eye; his arms were wrapped around himself protectively, and he was nodding somewhat absently, his gaze still on Shoma, intent and yet strangely gentle. Brian followed his eyeline somewhat uncertainly. ‘Good evening, Shoma; not out with the others, then?’ he offered. Shoma shrugged lamely.  
‘He’s hiding from Team Japan,’ Yuzuru smiled, eyes briefly lighting up with mischief, and for a split second Shoma relaxed, letting out a faint laugh.  
‘Ah, I see,’ Brian nodded knowingly. ‘I thought Wakaba had a glint in her eye when I saw her earlier – I should’ve known she was planning something.’ Brian’s eyes twinkled as he shot Shoma another wry smile. ‘A wise move avoiding a Team Japan night out, in my experience. I rather fear there are going to be some grumpy, sleep-deprived individuals crawling their way onto the bus tomorrow morning…but maybe that means there’ll actually be some peace and quiet, at least.’ Shoma smiled politely, bobbing his head in a vague nod, and Brian looked back at Yuzuru. ‘I can come talk with you another time if you’d rather keep Shoma company; you should be spending time with people your own age instead of always having to deal with everyone else’s problems. I don’t want to get in the way if you boys are having fun.’  
‘It’s fine,’ Shoma said before Yuzuru could reply, smiling tightly and avoiding Yuzuru’s questioning gaze. ‘I was going to bed anyway,’ he added more quietly. Yuzuru studied him for a moment, then nodded slightly, offering him a tiny smile.  
‘If you’re sure,’ he said and Shoma nodded too, shy and tired, pushing himself off the wall and picking up his jacket from where Yuzuru had left it neatly folded on the end of the bed. He met his eyes just for a moment as he passed him, and it dispelled a little of his tension when Yuzuru’s smile softened as he tipped his head at him, eyebrows quirking with an almost mischievous curiosity. ‘Ok?’ Shoma nodded.  
‘I’ll see you in the morning, Yuzu,’ he murmured, lips twitching up for a fraction of a second as he shook his head slightly. ‘Well, I’ll probably hear you first, but…you know,’ he added, pulling a face that made Yuzuru laugh softly.  
‘Sure, Sho – sleep well, yeah?’ he said gently, eyes glittering warmly.  
‘You too, Yuzu,’ Shoma replied.  
‘Goodnight, Shoma,’ Brian nodded as Shoma passed him, and Shoma offered him the thinnest of smiles, turning quickly and slipping out of the room. As the door thudded shut behind him he took a moment in the hallway to try and collect himself and catch his breath, closing his eyes and opening them again a couple of times, just to make sure he was definitely awake before forcing himself to move.

When Shoma made it back to his room, he headed straight for his bed, flopping down onto it with a soft groan before rolling slowly onto his back, his limbs splaying out as he stared up at the ceiling uncomprehendingly. His whole body still felt alive, his skin buzzing and his heart haywire, and every time he tried to close his eyes to think all he could see was lightning; he wanted to sleep, he wanted to feel so bone-tired he could curl up and crash into dreamless darkness. But Yuzuru was still loud and electric and all over him. He remembered, dimly, the look in Keiji’s eyes earlier. _Do you know what you’re doing?_ Shoma realised he had less idea now than he had then; he was hurtling onwards on instinct, letting his feelings overtake him in a way he never normally would. Because when he was alone with Yuzuru, being practical didn’t seem to matter. And when he was alone with his thoughts, it mattered so much he didn’t dare open the door to it for fear of the mess of questions that would come tumbling in with it. He sighed, tearing at the skin of his bottom lip and trying to will the static out of him; he needed to calm down, to think and to stop feeling _so much_. But there was no shutting off from this. Because it was Yuzuru. He was a flood, a rush of breath, a force of nature. An oncoming storm. Whose lips tasted sweet and whose fingers were more delicate than spring rain. Shoma groaned, covering his face with his hands and rolling back onto his stomach; he let out a rough, frustrated noise from the back of his throat, breathing in the starchy scent of the hotel sheets. A few minutes passed; Shoma listened to the sound of people in the hallway drift in and then out again and let the low hum of a city at night settled over him. It calmed him a little, but not enough – just like any adrenaline rush, Yuzuru had a strange aftershock to him, a heavy quiet and a sense of longing that pervaded everything, imbuing the shadows with a curious weight of memories and feelings and the ache of realisation that a moment had passed. Shoma slowly pushed himself up on his elbows, shifting slightly as he pulled his phone from his pocket and called the one person in the world who he could always count on to tell him exactly what he needed to hear and still be in his corner when he ignored the advice and everything fell apart around his ears.

It took a while for Itsuki to answer, and when he did the screen was mostly black, his face picked out only by the glow from his phone screen. He still had one eye closed and out of the pixelated shadows Shoma could only just make out the outline of their bedroom ceiling, Itsuki leaning at an awkward angle over the edge of the bed to squint down at him, his expression nonplussed and mildly accusatory. Shoma winced; he’d forgotten Japan was only one hour ahead.  
‘What time is it?!’ Itsuki whined, rubbing at his eye and crawling closer to the edge of the bed, everything on the screen blurring for a moment as he picked the phone up from the floor. ‘Unless someone is dead or on fire, I’m going back to sleep and you can’t stop me.’ Itsuki’s dark muttering was somewhat contradicted by him pushing himself up a little, propping the phone up in front of him to get a better look at Shoma’s face.  
‘Sorry,’ Shoma sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly and glancing away. Itsuki’s expression changed, something thoughtful and concerned coming over his features as he took Shoma in properly, and he suddenly looked a little more alert.  
‘Well I’m awake now, so you might as well say whatever you were going to say…’ he pointed out with a roll of his eyes, and Shoma groaned, pulling a face.  
‘I just…needed someone to talk to who…doesn’t give a crap about Yuzu being…you know… _Yuzuru Hanyu_.’  
‘Huh?’ Itsuki frowned sleepily, and Shoma drew in a deep breath, eyes turning up to the ceiling.  
‘I…I kissed Yuzu tonight,’ he burst out, face scrunched up as he avoided looking at his brother’s face.  
‘Wait: WHAT?!’ Shoma flinched at the increase in Itsuki’s volume. He had scrambled to switch on his bedside lamp and was hurriedly pushing himself upright, and Shoma winced in anticipation of what would come next. ‘YOU _KISSED_ YUZURU “I’M GOING TO SAVE THE WORLD” HANYU?!’ Itsuki was looking at Shoma with something between shock and amusement, and he gaped for a moment, blinking, before letting out a small bark of a laugh. ‘I’m…surprised and yet…you know, like…not surprised at all,’ he sighed. ‘I mean, really… _at all_.’ Shoma let out a small, embarrassed groan, a blush creeping along his skin, and Itsuki laughed again, loud and shameless. ‘Oh my God, please tell me you’re not so oblivious that you didn’t kind of see this coming; you two are, like, joined at the hip or something…and you both make puppy-dog eyes at each other all the damn time, it’s kind of gross to have to watch, honestly. I figured he just wasn’t interested in that stuff or whatever.’ Itsuki let out a gasp. ‘Wait – if you just kissed Yuzuru Hanyu, what are you doing on the phone to me?! Shouldn’t you be…I don’t know, off being dumb and dopey-eyed and making out with your new boyfriend like a normal person?’  
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ Shoma mumbled, rolling his eyes. ‘If you’d let me even talk-’  
‘Oh no: he _is_ interested, right? There wasn’t some whole embarrassing scene? Please tell me I don’t have to delete his number and pretend I never knew him – he promised to help me with my homework.’ Shoma tried to glare at Itsuki for that, but he just shrugged, unbothered. ‘What?! It’s an assignment about the Foundation. My teacher told me I’m not allowed to get help from my brother, but she didn’t say anything about not getting insider info from…the guy my brother is apparently kissing and then hiding from.’ His expression softened a little then, and he slumped forward, smile turning lopsided. ‘Did it go badly? Who kissed who? Is it going to happen again? Do you think this means he’ll also help me with my maths homework too?’ Shoma laughed despite himself, rolling his eyes again and shaking his head at his brother, who was smiling back at him with unapologetic glee, eyes bright and suddenly wide awake. ‘Do you think I could sell the story to the press and make my fortune?!’ he added, voice dancing into the childish, sing-song tone he always used when he was deliberately trying to needle at Shoma for a reaction, and Shoma shot him a dry, unimpressed look.  
‘I will shut your fingers in a door and tell all your friends what you say about them behind their backs if you even try,’ he said and Itsuki sniggered, wrinkling his nose.  
‘Fine,’ he huffed, flicking his hair out of his eyes and letting out an airy sigh. ‘But I’m mostly gonna keep quiet for Yuzu’s sake. He’s cool. You, on the other hand…’  
‘Shut up.’  
‘I would, but you made the mistake of calling me to tell me YOU KISSED YUZURU _FREAKING_ HANYU.’  
‘Stop shouting, you’ll wake up Mum and Dad,’ Shoma half-yelped, genuinely alarmed by the idea. ‘You shouldn’t need this pointing out to you, but: I _so_ don’t want to have to have this conversation with them listening in. I’ve not even told them properly about us being friends yet, never mind…whatever the hell this is.’ Itsuki simply snorted.  
‘Urgh, please: they’d be thrilled. They’re already starting to realise you’re way closer to him than what you’ve been letting on to them – every time the reports on the summit are on the news they see you two together being all secretive and soft and they start talking about how glad they are you’ve made such a good and respectable friend. It’s killing me to not tell them he’s actually as big of an idiot as you are. They keep cooing about what a sweet boy he is for looking after you, and saying how wise beyond his years he is when he gives his speeches; I think if they found out you’d kissed him they’d probably just go ahead and start planning the wedding already. Mum would love to pick you out a nice tux, you know,’ Itsuki said with a roll of his eyes, and Shoma glowered at him.  
‘Remind me why I called you?’ he muttered, and Itsuki’s smile shifted into something gentler.  
‘Because I’m your brother. And you’re an anti-social piece of work, so I’m pretty much the only person you know who you can trust with this bombshell.’ He tipped his head to one side. ‘Except for, you know…Yuzuru Hanyu. But, you just kissed him, so…’

Shoma groaned and covered his face with his hands, and Itsuki laughed, but it was a gentler, kinder sound than the bratty-little-brother tone he’d been using before. ‘God, Sho. He’s really messed you up, huh?’ he sighed. ‘So what happened? Did it go really badly? Please tell me he didn’t reject you, because if he did he’s a bigger moron than you are – which takes some effort, honestly.’ Shoma shook his head, glancing down awkwardly.  
‘No. I mean…I kissed him first but…he didn’t…I mean…that was nothing compared to how he kissed me, so…’  
‘Wait: _he_ kissed _you_?! SO WHAT’S THE PROBLEM THEN?!’ Shoma winced, holding the phone a little further away from him.  
‘Itsuki, can you turn it down? Please? I’m really not in the mood,’ he moaned.  
‘Come on, you knew exactly what you were in for as soon as you pressed the call button,’ Itsuki replied with a slight pout. ‘But seriously though – what _are_ you doing talking to me, if you kissed him and he kissed you. I mean…why aren’t you two…I don’t know, talking about this with each other? Wouldn’t that be the sensible option here?’ Shoma sighed.  
‘Brian came in before we got the chance.’  
‘Wait, Brian as in Brian Orser? As in Mr. Foundation?’ Itsuki asked, wide-eyed, and Shoma nodded. ‘Sho!’ Itsuki gaped. ‘You got caught making out with your not-boyfriend by the headmaster?!’ he laughed. ‘No wonder you don’t want Mum to know: this is _definitely_ not what she imagined happening when she was getting all emotional over the honour you were bringing our family by receiving the Foundation’s precious invite.’ Shoma tried to hold his glare, but Itsuki kept laughing, carefree and entirely unbothered, and he relented slightly, his lips twitching into a hint of a smile.  
‘Yeah, well…it wasn’t exactly in my plans either, you know,’ he mumbled, biting his lip and looking down at his hands. Itsuki let out a small, sympathetic sound at that, sobering and taking a moment to study Shoma’s expression before offering him an understanding smile.  
‘This is _a lot_ for you, right?’ he asked gently.  
‘Oh, you noticed that?’ Shoma shot back with a rough laugh, widening his eyes at him for effect, and Itsuki grinned, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.  
‘People tell me I can be pretty observant sometimes,’ he nodded teasingly, before softening again, slumping forwards a little. ‘So come on, Sho. Spill. What’s going on in that dumb head of yours that you’re not doing cartwheels about this?’ Shoma looked away, starting to bite his cheek as he tried to order his thoughts. ‘Oh no,’ Itsuki said dryly and Shoma glanced up at him with a frown.  
‘What?’  
‘That’s your “I’m going to make myself miserable by overthinking this until I ruin everything” face,’ Itsuki shrugged and Shoma rolled his eyes at him.  
‘Is it possible to be _over_ thinking kissing someone who is scheduled to have private audiences with the heads of state from, like, eight different world powers in the next couple of days?’ he pointed out, and Itsuki wrinkled his nose.  
‘So? He’s not that person when he’s with you, right? That doesn’t change anything,’ he said, matter-of-fact. ‘But is he a good kisser, though?’ he added, somehow mischievous and serious at the same time, and Shoma attempted to glare at him. ‘Is he a good kisser, does he make you laugh, does he listen when you need to be listened to? Seriously, Sho: that’s the kind of thing that actually matters, not all the circus on the side. So…tell me: good kisser, or terrible?’ Shoma looked down again with a small huff, his lips curving into a brief smile as he remembered, and Itsuki arched an eyebrow, clapping his hands together impishly. ‘Oo, there’s an answer in that expression.’  
‘Yeah, well…Yuzu’s good at everything,’ Shoma said wryly, not daring to look up, and Itsuki let out a low whistle that only intensified Shoma’s blush.  
‘Oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?’ he grinned. ‘So come on, what’s the problem? You kissed him, he kissed you, clearly it was a good kiss…and apparently you’re both total idiots. Sounds like you’re made for each other to me – what more do you want?’  
‘It’s complicated.’  
‘Well duh, it’s you: you’re a mess. My point is…why are you letting that get in your way when Yuzu seems to actually like that about you?’ Shoma looked up at Itsuki sceptically and he pulled a face at him. ‘How are you my brother? No one can be this dense, Sho: you like him and he likes you. Just let it be.’  
‘I’m not being dense, ok? I’m being practical. So what if we like each other, so what if his kisses taste like marshmallows and he’s the only person on the planet whose face I just want to see, like, all the time…that doesn’t change what his life has to be like. His story hasn’t been his own since he was four years old, not really – only in moments. And moments is all me and him can ever have. I don’t know if I know how to cope with that.’  
‘Ok, you’ve lost me.’

Shoma sighed deeply again, shifting to make himself more comfortable before he attempted to form his fears into something concrete and coherent that his brother might actually understand.  
‘We visited the new Grey Zone today,’ he said slowly, eyes down on his fingers as he traced an absent-minded pattern on the sheets. ‘It felt awful, like breathing in asphalt. Like everything inside was closing up.’ Shoma winced, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. ‘I had to block it out, I had to shut down or I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep my head upright.’ He looked up at Itsuki then, his eyes sad and pleading for him to understand. ‘Yuzu can’t do that – his power won’t let him. He feels everything, always. And he feels it deeply. Because he doesn’t know how to be any other way; everything in him is intensity and lightning, and it’s brilliant, but it’s more than any other person could probably take. His highs are up in the stars somewhere, but his lows…there is cracked and broken glass inside him all the time. But he never lets it show on the surface. Not when the world is looking.’ Shoma swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. ‘He lets it show when he’s alone with me, though – there’s no part of him he doesn’t let me feel and see and know. There are flaws and faultlines all over his skin that most people don’t even realise are there – and they’re kind of beautiful. But they’re terrifying too,’ he whispered, looking up into Itsuki’s eyes. The sympathy there almost made him feel worse and he quickly glanced away again. ‘I’m glad. That I know that. That I know _him_. The real him not the guy they talk about in the news. He is raw and delicate and yet he’s still stronger than anyone else I know. And one day he’s either going to save the world or die trying – because he cares, and he cares maybe too much. But the world barely has a fraction of that same respect for him.’ Shoma shrugged helplessly. ‘Being around Yuzu is amazing, you know? Everything is magic, all the time – he will make you forget the world for a while and he’ll laugh until you have no choice but to laugh with him. But even he can’t change the fact that there will always be shadows waiting at the edges, trying to claw their way back inside. Expectations and judgements. Hopes and eyes and opinions. Headlines. Rough edges. And the constant knowledge that…one day, something might just break him. Because he can be broken. More easily than people think.’  
‘Sho,’ Itsuki sighed like it was an ache, and Shoma flinched.  
‘I don’t know how to live with it, you know? I don’t know if I can, if I’ll ever be able to. I don’t think I can face what he faces and I…I don’t think I can face the fact he has to face it.’  
‘But Sho, you think he knows what to do with that either? Of course he doesn’t. But it’s the hand he’s been dealt. You can’t say you care about him – spend all this time with him and freaking _kiss him_ – and then just…walk away,’ Itsuki protested, gentle but firm. It was nothing Shoma hadn’t considered himself, but he hated how it sounded said aloud. ‘Self-preservation isn’t enough of an excuse. Not when someone means that much to you.’  
‘Maybe,’ Shoma murmured, shaking his head slightly. ‘But it’s not like he doesn’t-’ He cut himself off and took a breath. ‘He _knows_. Sometimes he looks at me and I can see he’s thinking “How long?”, I can feel the sadness of it. And it kills me. Because I can’t promise him it’s not true. I can’t tell him I’ll stay when we both know…the story I’m writing has to be my own or I get overwhelmed. The road ahead with him is full of choices that aren’t mine. But the road ahead without him-’ Shoma stopped with an abrupt huff of breath, suddenly aware of tears prickling the back of his eyes and furiously blinking them away. ‘We would both be miserable if we forced it. I already spend so much time holding my breath, hoping today isn’t the day he finally vanishes off into the darkness – that isn’t going to go away, it’ll just get worse with every new expectation placed on him. And he’s already full of apologies for things he can’t change; he’d tear himself apart if he thought he was responsible for hurting me in any way. And he _would_ feel responsible, because…that’s what he does.’ Shoma met Itsuki’s gaze with wide, wet eyes. ‘He’s my best friend. One of the most important people to me. The thought of losing that is painful enough. To lose him as anything more than that – I don’t think I could bear it.’

Itsuki didn’t speak for a while, looking at Shoma with a quiet thoughtfulness, his forehead pinched into the smallest of frowns. Shoma took the opportunity to try and steady his breathing, to tamp down the prickle of panic and the sense of something inevitable and unavoidably sad slowly closing in. He’d been dismissing this for days now – not daring to say the words aloud. But now they were out there it was as if they had become something solid, something every bit as inescapable to him as the feeling of Yuzuru’s thunder, faint but as insistent as ever somewhere on the outskirts of his consciousness.  
‘You really think you could walk away now and be in any less pain than you would be if something were to happen to him later?’ Itsuki asked finally, his voice soft and hushed in the darkness. Shoma closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pausing a moment to think.  
‘It would hurt like hell,’ he admitted gently before opening his eyes again. ‘But I think I could survive it.’ He wet his lips and paused. ‘I’ve already let myself take too much from him. Feeling this much for him? It reminds me he’s real – it reassures me that I didn’t dream him, that he isn’t just a trick. But that…makes him something losable. To let myself have something that is just going to be destroyed one day – to have to let the outside make its claim and watch him fly headfirst into whatever it is that’s up ahead because it’s who he is and there’s no other choice for him? How does anyone face that? How does anyone come out of that alive? I want him to survive and I don’t think he will. Surely at least one of us should make it out though…and maybe if I walk away…I will.’  
‘You’re stronger than you think, you know,’ Itsuki offered gently. Shoma smiled a small, tragic smile.  
‘Not strong enough,’ he said. ‘Not as strong as him.’ Itsuki’s expression was pained; like he understood but couldn’t agree. ‘When I’m around him and we’re alone…I could probably stay wrapped up in that feeling forever, fighting sleep, fighting every interruption, all the noise and the ghosts. When we’re alone I could fight anything. But we can’t always be alone: he has a part to play in the world. And it isn’t in his nature to shy away from anything…so I can’t ask him to. I care about him because of everything he is, but everything he is everything that’s terrifying.’ Itsuki was still frowning at him slightly, sympathy and frustration in his eyes as he sighed.  
‘You know, Shoma – caring about _anything_ that much is traumatizing, but people do it all the time. You never know what can happen out in the world; it doesn’t change the fact we all live in it every day though, because what else is there to do? So sure, this thing the two of you have is as vulnerable as every other precious thing out there…but maybe the point is that it _is_ precious…and you have it, for however long. Rare things are always the most valuable, right? Fragile things, things which can’t be replaced. I know that it scares the crap out of you, and that makes sense…because you’re human, and everyone’s probably a little bit scared all the time of losing something dear to them. But…don’t you think it says something important? Just how terrified you are? That’s like gold dust, Sho. And it’s yours. Are you really going to blow it off onto the breeze because there’s a chance you might lose it anyway?’

Shoma hardly slept that night. He lay awake, replaying kissing Yuzuru on a loop because he couldn’t help himself, and then quickly replaying his conversation with Itsuki word for word to remind himself of just what he was getting himself into. When he did close his eyes and let himself drift, all he dreamt of was marshmallow kisses and ocean sprays, Yuzuru everywhere and lightning on his skin – the kind of dream you’re too present in to feel rested from. The hotel sheets were too hot and the air conditioning too cold, and he didn’t dare reach out too desperately for Yuzuru in case he got the wrong impression – in case he assumed Shoma was regretting the kiss because he hadn’t wanted it after all, or perhaps in case he read Shoma just as well as he always did and blamed himself for the worries he knew he felt. Dawn broke and it was almost time to get up and get ready, to leave his bag outside for the hotel porter and put on his Foundation suit – to be part of the show, a soldier in a battle no one knew for sure was coming and no one knew for sure could ever be won. Yuzuru had more ghosts than most, but everyone at the Foundation had them to an extent – and Shoma hated it, hated how easily he let them get inside his head.

He was one of the first people to make it down to the lobby that morning; he felt rough and worn at the edges, and he had winced when he caught sight of his bedraggled reflection in the lift mirrors. But at the same time, he found himself surprisingly calm despite everything. Yuzuru had protected them with his promises; there was no shadow of doubt or misunderstanding looming over them, Shoma had been clear he couldn’t promise any more than what he had and Yuzuru had laid out all the flaws in his foundations with resigned honesty about the cost he might end up paying for them – it was sad but beautiful, riddled with problems and yet still something safe and certain. There was a lingering self-consciousness, an awareness that change had come in and shifted things, altered something which he had felt so sure of before – after all, he had no idea what to say, how to act, no idea what Yuzuru might have said to him if Brian hadn’t interrupted them and no clue if regret or confusion could have gotten into Yuzuru’s head since the night before. It nagged at him; the possibility that his usual easiness in Yuzuru’s company might become strained or awkward beneath the weight of something he had started – whether Yuzuru kissed him back or not was irrelevant if Shoma had moved too fast, taken an invitation that hadn’t really been there. Yuzuru wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t feel something, there was still a chance that, outside of the safety of his darkened hotel room, he felt less than what he had thought in that first, brief moment when their lips had met, and the possibility was terrifying.

‘Shoma! How come you’re up on time without any of us having to come bang on your door for ten minutes? I thought we’d have to send Yuzu to get you,’ came a voice behind him, startling him slightly, and he whipped round to see Satoko had appeared from the lifts, her hair pulled into a smart ponytail and her blazer primly buttoned. She looked like a doll in her Foundation suit, neat and perfect and delicate, her wide eyes bright with mischief and undeniable sweetness and her energy fresh and crisp like spring. She was smiling up at him with gentle amusement, and he couldn’t help but smile back, wrinkling his nose slightly in a show of annoyance.  
‘I can get myself up in time for stuff,’ he said defensively. ‘It happens…sometimes…’ He pulled a face and Satoko laughed, narrowing her eyes at him playfully as she scrutinised his face. He was aware of her taking in his messy hair and the shadows under his eyes in that assessing way of hers, and he squirmed slightly when she arched an eyebrow at him.  
‘I guess you and Yuzu had a perfectly good night without the rest of us last night, huh?’ she teased, and Shoma tensed slightly.  
‘Why? What did you hear?’ Satoko blinked, eyes widening in surprise as she stared at him for a beat.  
‘Actually, I just meant you looked like you had a late night, but…now I’m curious,’ she said slowly, her lips curving into a smile as she caught the burnt-out blush rising in Shoma’s face. Shoma bit his lip, letting out a nervous laugh and looking away.  
‘It’s nothing,’ he sighed, shaking his head slightly, and Satoko folded her arms.  
‘Which means I know for sure it’s something,’ she said plainly, looking at Shoma in that way she had that made him feel like she saw right through him. ‘Please tell me you didn’t fight again; Shoma, I talked to Javi, you know? He had Yuzu _crying_ at his door that night.’  
‘Yuzu cries all the time; he cries at cat videos on the internet,’ Shoma huffed, avoiding her eyes, and Satoko smacked him on the arm.  
‘I know you know better than this, Shoma,’ she sighed, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘We’re not fighting, ok?’ he said with a faint whine. ‘We’re…the opposite of fighting. We’re…too close. And I think I need to make it stop.’ Satoko frowned.  
‘Huh?’ Shoma winced, closing his eyes and pulling his shoulders in protectively.  
‘I…might have…sort of…kissed Yuzu last night.’ He made the admission in a rush of breath, not daring to look at Satoko’s face, and for a moment he stayed tense and still, waiting for her reaction. But nothing came, and slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes, meeting immediately with Satoko’s sweet, gentle gaze. She sighed and glanced behind them before pulling him a little further away from the lifts, stepping closer to him to deter any potential intruders.  
‘You kissed him?’ she asked softly. Shoma nodded shyly and Satoko’s lips twisted into a kind smile. ‘Wow. I mean…I assumed it would happen but…I wasn’t expecting either one of you to figure it out for…at least another week.’ Shoma’s brow furrowed at that and her smile turned playful, her eyes twinkling impishly. ‘Sho, you know you like him. Please tell me this isn’t news to you, right?’  
‘I mean…I didn’t…I wasn’t-’ Shoma cut himself off with a sigh, turning his eyes upwards and pulling a face. ‘Why does everyone keep saying this? I don’t have a good answer, you know?’  
‘Shoma,’ Satoko murmured sympathetically, squeezing his arm again. ‘Did you at least talk to him about it?’  
‘We didn’t get a chance. Brian showed up and Yuzu had to…be Yuzu, I guess. So I went to bed and stared at the ceiling until it was time to get up.’ Shoma shrugged helplessly and Satoko’s expression gentled further as she sighed, faintly frustrated and a little fond.  
‘It must be hard to find the right moment, huh? There’s always people looking for him – at the Foundation it’s bad enough, never mind on this trip.’ Shoma bobbed his head in a vague nod, looking down at his shoes.  
‘It’s probably for the best. I don’t even know what I would’ve said.’

Satoko regarded him steadily for a moment; when he risked looking back up at her she narrowed her eyes at him, looking for something in his expression and being vaguely displeased with whatever she saw there. She turned, scanning the lobby for a moment before suddenly grabbing Shoma’s hand and setting off determinedly with him trailing behind her, and Shoma let her pull him – bewildered – following her over to the seating area, confused but fairly certain she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually she came to a halt in front of a sofa pushed right back in the corner, half-hidden by the overhang of the second floor balcony and a neat row of indoor plants; Shoma bumped into her slightly when she stopped, perplexed at what the significance of the spot was until, with a smile, she neatly stepped aside to reveal the sofa’s occupant.

As though it were just any other morning, there was Yuzuru, curled up in the corner of the sofa with his knees pulled up to his chest, morning-quiet and looking up from his phone in mild curiosity as they stopped in front of him. His expression changed into the gentlest of smiles when he saw Shoma, and Satoko looked between the two of them – clearly pleased with herself – before putting an arm around Shoma and gently pushing him forwards.  
‘I think this belongs to you,’ she told Yuzuru simply, shooting Shoma a pointed look and giving his arm one final squeeze. And then, just like that, she quickly stepped back, disappearing off to where Kazuki and Keiji were standing near the escalators, leaving Shoma to stare after her with a half-hearted glare. Slowly he turned back to face Yuzuru, offering him a smile which was a mixture of embarrassment and amusement and relaxing a little when Yuzuru simply laughed, his eyes shining up at Shoma the way they always did. Like he was the best thing Yuzuru had ever known and he was delighted simply by his presence – like nothing had changed between them and no questions hung in the air.

‘Hi,’ Yuzuru said, eyes still sparkling with amusement, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh too, his smile turning lopsided.  
‘Hi,’ he replied with a roll of his eyes. Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him, pushing himself up a little to shift along the sofa, making room for Shoma to sit and smirking slightly when he hesitated.  
‘Still don’t bite, Sho,’ he said, jokingly dry as he widened his eyes slightly, and Shoma felt something in his chest lighten immediately. He breathed out, letting his head drop back for a beat before dumping his backpack and collapsing gratefully into the offered spot with a faint groan. ‘Sleep well?’ Yuzuru remarked, arching an eyebrow, and Shoma shot him a sidelong glance, half-glaring at him and getting nothing but amusement in return.  
‘Why are you always so chipper about being awake?’ he sighed, and Yuzuru smiled across at him, dazzling and sweet.  
‘Partly because it’s just how I am. But mostly? Because it annoys you so much.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘You’re fluffy like candy floss and evil like a movie villain and I hate you.’ Yuzuru laughed. ‘In fairness, though, I hate most things at this time of day,’ Shoma added, and when Yuzuru quirked an eyebrow at him he shrugged. ‘You should be honoured I’m even talking to you, honestly.’ Yuzuru’s face crinkled up with a smile, and he nodded, eyes knowing and content as he tipped his head slightly, sliding a little down the sofa to curl lazily into the cushions.  
‘I’m always honoured when you talk to me, Shoma,’ he said gently. He was soft and round-cheeked this morning; hair in his eyes, lips permanently curling up at the corners, the light pouring out of him. Shoma could sense an ache of something in him, could tell he wasn’t as carefree as his smile seemed, but he knew this wasn’t the place to push the issue – they were tucked away from view, but there were too many people around to be safe and the rest of the Foundation group would no doubt begin to arrive soon, filling the space with more energy and more voices and more curious eyes. ‘So, did you actually sleep or did you just lie there obsessing and complaining about hotel beds to yourself?’ Yuzuru asked into the quiet between them, and Shoma smiled a slow, reluctant smile, glancing shyly down and shaking his head.  
‘You say obsessing, I say…doing in-depth, independent analysis,’ he murmured. Yuzuru’s smile turned soft, though there was still something teasing dancing in his eyes as he prodded Shoma’s side with his foot, forcing him to look up.  
‘Me? I just slept,’ he said blithely, crossing his eyes at Shoma, who let out a high bubble of a laugh, his head tipping back against the sofa.  
‘I hate you. I hate you _so much_ ,’ he groaned, his head lolling to one side as he looked back at Yuzuru with a heavy sigh. ‘Thank you,’ he added more quietly then, and Yuzuru raised his eyebrows enquiringly. ‘Just…for still being you,’ Shoma elaborated with a shrug, blowing out a quick breath and looking away. ‘For not asking me a million questions or being weird or…yelling at me like Itsuki did.’ Yuzuru laughed.  
‘That…explains why he keeps messaging me weirdly pointed questions…’ he said slowly and Shoma winced.  
‘Sorry.’ Yuzuru shrugged, unbothered.  
‘He’s being a little brother; it’s fine. And who else were you going to talk to, huh? When your brain is overloaded, you use his brain to take the strain. I get it.’ Shoma laughed.  
‘You clearly know me too well,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru shot him a conspiratorial smile, eyes narrowing a little as he pursed his lips.  
‘So…you wanna sneak down to the bus to wait? It’s going to be a while before everyone makes it down there, and it’ll be quiet. And warm. And kinda dark. And I might even have a packet of super-unhealthy snacks I could share with you…’ he offered, waggling his eyebrows at Shoma jokingly and making him smirk.  
‘You really don’t need to bribe me to spend time with you, you know,’ he said softly and Yuzuru let out a small, thoughtful hum, pretending to consider the idea.  
‘So…you’re saying I get to eat my snacks all by myself…?’ he teased and Shoma pouted, wrinkling his nose slightly.  
‘I mean…I didn’t say that _exactly_ …’ he joked and Yuzuru laughed.  
‘Come on then, Trouble. We should go now before the rest of Team Japan gets here – Satton will try to protect us, but she can only do so much once Waka in on a mission, you know?’ Shoma grimaced slightly, nodding.  
‘Good point, well made: let’s go, Hanyu.’ Yuzuru smirked at him wryly.  
‘Finally, some enthusiasm,’ he said, giving a small clap before pushing himself up, and Shoma rolled his eyes, shooting him a sly smile.  
‘Sure: enthusiasm and fear are easily confused, I guess.’ Yuzuru cast him a half-hearted glare, too much warmth in his eyes to be believed, and held his backpack out to him with one hand, giving Shoma the other hand to help him up from the sofa.  
‘You are awful.’  
‘Then stop dragging me around with you all the time.’

They crossed over to the reception desk, slipping their keycards into the box on the end corner and neatly avoiding the growing crowd of Foundation faces opposite as they headed towards the door which lead down to the basement carpark. Out of the corner of his eye, Shoma was aware of Satoko and Keiji turning to watch their path across the lobby and he glanced back over his shoulder at them, glowering; Satoko’s smile was small but definitely there, her eyes sparkling knowingly, but Keiji’s expression was more guarded, one of his eyebrows quirked up as though he was making a mental note for later. ‘Why are all my friends such know-it-alls?’ Shoma muttered with a shake of his head as Yuzuru held open the door for him, and Yuzuru looked back towards Satoko and Keiji with a vaguely amused smile. He shrugged, following Shoma through the door and bumping their shoulders together.  
‘I think it’s a Team Japan thing,’ he said, pulling a face. ‘You go long enough without the concept of boundaries and you start assuming you know everything about the people around you.’ He paused, tipping his head in thought. ‘Although in Satton’s case? I think she might actually just know everything,’ he amended, and Shoma laughed softly, rolling his eyes.  
‘But what’s your excuse?’ he teased. Yuzuru let out an exaggerated yelp of objection, elbowing Shoma in his side and fixing him with his most petulant pout.  
‘Some of us can’t help being smart, Shoma.’  
‘I watched you try and drink from a closed bottle yesterday, Yuzu…and you just kept trying. What sort of smarts does it take to figure out the cap’s still on, huh?’ Yuzuru laughed, wrinkling his nose and nudging at Shoma in protest.  
‘I was _tired_ and it was complicated! When _you’re_ tired you don’t even know what day it is – leave me alone.’

The bus driver was loading the bags when they arrived, and Shoma hovered slightly behind Yuzuru as he showed the man his ID pass – he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as Yuzuru charmed him with the full force of his public persona and tried to ignore how it made him feel. It wasn’t an act, simply a carefully filtered form of Yuzuru’s natural charisma, but Shoma still resented the reminder that the two of them could never be alone for long. After Yuzuru had politely agreed to take a picture with him and sign something for his kids, the bus driver opened the door for them and Yuzuru thanked him more times than was necessary, grabbing Shoma’s hand and leading him away. ‘Stop sulking, Sho; you had to share me for – like – three minutes,’ he said lightly and Shoma kicked the back of his calf.  
‘Ego,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru looked back at him with an impish smile, letting out a soft hum of consideration as he looked Shoma up and down, spinning back on his heel and tugging on Shoma’s hand with both of his as he walked steadily backwards.  
‘Tell me I’m wrong, though,’ he challenged and Shoma huffed, half-stumbling as he tipped his head back and allowed himself to be tugged.  
‘Even the bus driver wants in, Yuzu; it’s… _a lot_ ,’ he whined, smothering a shy smile, and Yuzuru laughed, far too delighted, his face beautiful and open and enchanting. ‘You talk to Itsuki; you know how I feel about sharing,’ Shoma sighed and Yuzuru nodded solemnly.  
‘I have heard many terrible stories. But it’s ok – I still like you.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Unfortunate; I don’t like you at all.’ Yuzuru glanced across at him, eyes sparkling, and for a second Shoma held his gaze before the two of them both broke into laughter and Yuzuru rolled his eyes, smacking Shoma on the arm and shaking his head as he spun back around and climbed onto the bus.

Yuzuru had been right – the bus was pleasantly warm, quiet but for the sound of suitcases thunking together, and as the curtains had been drawn across all the windows everything was bathed in the humming blue glow of the strip lights in the ceiling. It was calming, peaceful – even with Yuzuru being stupidly electric and dazzling beside him. Shoma rested his head against the seat and let out a soft sigh, enjoying the fuzzy morning air and letting his eyes close just for a moment; Yuzuru’s energy danced over his skin like a spring breeze, gentle and more soothing than something made of lightning had any right to be, and for a moment Shoma could pretend this was it – the whole day ahead of them just like this, no outside world or responsibilities.

When Shoma opened his eyes again, Yuzuru was rummaging through his pockets, quietly oblivious to the halo of blue light around him making his edges seem hazy, his movements blurring into smudges of purple and white. He produced his lip balm from his pocket, and Shoma watched more intently than he should as he swiped it across his lips, which were pink and delicate as they were pulled just slightly by the action before he pursed them with a slight pop. ‘If I kissed you again, would it have to become some sort of decision?’ Shoma asked softly, only half-realising he was asking the question out loud, and Yuzuru stilled, lowering the lip balm and tilting his head slightly, regarding Shoma with his dark eyes in a way that made him shiver a little. He shifted in his seat, turning his body so he was facing Shoma more squarely, and Shoma began biting at the inside of his cheek, a knot forming just beneath his ribs that made his whole body tense.  
‘Do you _want_ to kiss me again, Shoma?’ Yuzuru asked carefully, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile, shy and maybe a little sad.  
‘Yeah,’ he breathed, glancing down for a moment, his blush intense. When he looked back up, Yuzuru’s lips curled into an almost-smile, pretty and soft, and Shoma swallowed hard.  
‘Ok,’ Yuzuru said quietly, slow and thoughtful. ‘You know…you don’t have to give me any decision you can’t make.’ He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I won’t rush you for answers you don’t have to give: it would be unfair to expect more from you than what I know you can take. I know how you are: you might take your time, but you will never swerve from your course, and you will be honest about it once you have decided on it. There is already so much on your mind…I don’t want you to be overwhelmed. I will only ever take what you give me permission to.’ Shoma studied his face, not sure if he wanted to smile or cry at the calmness in his voice, at the certainty and the belief in his eyes as he looked at him; he was sad but had quietly reconciled himself with the decision Shoma wouldn’t let himself make, and there was a depth of feeling there that was at once beautiful and devastating. Shoma felt a trace of it second-hand, radiating back to him with cool, quiet edges and a fullness that ached; Yuzuru wasn’t hiding this from him, wasn’t pretending – there were no ghosts, not a single persona or PR smile, this really was just the two of them.  
‘I don’t ever want to lose you. But you’re not mine to keep. And trying to put that together in my head is…something I’m not sure I’m ever going to be able to do. So this…all of this…feels like I’m just making everything worse.’ Shoma sighed, looking up at Yuzuru with a helpless shrug. ‘But…I do still want to kiss you,’ he admitted. ‘Whatever that means.’ Yuzuru smiled, understanding and small, something shining in his eyes that lifted Shoma’s spirits somehow; Yuzuru had a way a seeking out the joy in a moment, even when everything seemed bleak and awful. Shoma usually allowed himself to wallow, but this time he had Yuzuru there, and he let him hold him up, let him keep his head above the rising water.  
‘All I want is to know you are sure – or as sure as you can be. Whenever you are ready to make your choice, I will understand.’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched at one corner, a hint of a smile there that made Shoma smile slightly too. ‘If these moments are all you can give, then they shouldn’t be wasted, right? I would rather be happy for a little while than ever have to doubt that it was real. That way I can always remember. After all: memories are magical things.’

For a moment Shoma simply looked at him, took in every detail of his face and the way his energy felt in the morning air; if everything was just the two of them in darkened rooms they’d be fine. Shoma just wanted a few minutes of pretending they hadn’t been doomed by other people and a very public stage, a few more minutes like the ones last night before Brian had knocked on the door and forced Shoma to confront what he was allowing himself to feel, what he was giving himself the opportunity to lose. With every touch the size of the loss he was going to take grew greater – and he was certain, one way or another, he was going suffer that loss – but there wasn’t enough willpower in his body any longer. He was tired and Yuzuru was safe and warm and glorious. And he wanted everything he was offering him.

Shoma pushed himself forward like it was a surrender, falling into Yuzuru’s gravity gratefully and letting his body move on instinct. He leant in and Yuzuru moved to him so easily it made him smile; Shoma let his hand come up to Yuzuru’s face, his fingers dragging a little over his skin as he pulled himself closer to him, drawing their bodies together so he could feel the full force of his warmth as he kissed him, slow and sweet. Yuzuru’s hand was at his cheek, his lashes tickling his skin as he closed his eyes, and Shoma sighed softly at the feeling, hyper-aware of the smallest touch. Yuzuru smiled against his lips, his other hand squeezing lightly at Shoma’s side, his thumb brushing against the skin where his shirt had been pulled loose, and Shoma shivered. Yuzuru’s mouth was soft, his lips smooth against the cracks and cuts of Shoma’s own, and even with a thunderstorm working its way through his body Shoma could still taste marshmallows. _Ridiculous_. They had curled and wrapped around each other, both of them mostly in Yuzuru’s seat, Shoma half-kneeling so Yuzuru had to draw himself up into the kiss, his lean body graceful and sturdy beneath Shoma’s weight; Shoma gripped at his shoulder, keeping the balance of tension between their bodies even as the kiss gentled. When Shoma finally pulled back just a little he rested their foreheads together and took a moment to catch his breath, smiling at the way Yuzuru tenderly brushed the pad of his thumb along his cheek. There was healing power in Yuzuru’s touch, in every point of contact between them – Shoma felt the now-familiar sensation of white lightning creeping up his spine and he welcomed it in, felt his tiredness become something less frayed, something more bearable. He sank into Yuzuru a little, letting out a low, grateful hum and breathing in the scent of bergamot, twisting his fingers in his hair before kissing him again – once, small and chaste – as he finally let the strain go from his body.

‘You’re way too good at that,’ Shoma murmured, his voice part-sigh against Yuzuru’s lips as he carefully pulled back. It drew a low vibration of a laugh out of him, his fingers still dancing patterns across every exposed point on Shoma’s skin, and Shoma’s eyes fluttered open as he felt Yuzuru lean his body back a little to look up into his face. He blinked at him, dazed and confused and wanting the contact back, and Yuzuru simply smiled knowingly, straining up to press a careful, tender kiss to his forehead before tugging at him so he tumbled down, his body landing flush against him with a huff of breath.  
‘Good at the healing or the kissing?’ he queried lightly, shifting so that Shoma slid down, his head underneath Yuzuru’s chin. Placid and sleepy, Shoma allowed himself to burrow close, lazily allowing himself to curl into the slight concave of his chest.  
‘Everything. Always,’ he sighed. ‘You’re good at everything. And you make it too easy. Addictive.’ Yuzuru laughed again and Shoma’s skin buzzed pleasantly; he still felt exhausted, but it didn’t feel so oppressive any longer. They stayed quiet for a while; Shoma felt Yuzuru shift slightly beneath him, moving to put one headphone in, and after a moment he heard the faint sound of his music in the background, tinny and dim on the edge of his consciousness. Shoma let his mind drift, biting absently at the corner of his lips and tasting sugar. ‘Yuzu, why do you have lip balm that tastes of marshmallows?’ he asked through a yawn, and Yuzuru laughed brightly, twisting to look down at him.  
‘Because I ran out of my one that tastes like chocolate cheesecake,’ he shrugged. Shoma opened one eye, lifting his head to look up at him.  
‘Seriously, Yuzu? It’s lip balm, not dessert,’ he said, shaking his head slightly then dropping it back onto Yuzuru’s chest with a huff, and Yuzuru laughed again, tickling at his cheek teasingly.  
‘At least I understand the concept of lip balm; your lips taste of cracks and iron,’ he chided. ‘And you know…you didn’t seem to be complaining, honestly.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Urgh. You’re so ridiculous,’ he said, elbowing Yuzuru lightly. ‘I’m gonna start putting in orders. Find me something with caramel and coffee, or there will be complaints.’ He didn’t need to look up to know Yuzuru was smirking fondly, and it was an effort not to smile himself.  
‘You say that like this is going to happen again, Shoma,’ Yuzuru remarked, sliding down a little in his seat and resting his chin on top of Shoma’s head. Shoma let out a low, sleepy sound, curling in tightly.  
‘Well, since I have limited impulse control and you’re all force of will…you like maths, right? Try doing some, Yuzu: I think it’s a pretty easy sum.’ Yuzuru’s silly, delighted laughter was a buzz of pleasant warmth on Shoma’s skin, and he smiled into it, happy to forget everything else for a little while.

Shoma dozed against Yuzuru as the others began to arrive, accepting the snacks he offered and the headphone he offered and the absent-minded stroking of his hair he offered; he was dimly aware of the mess of conversation in the background, Yuzuru occasionally chipping in. Tracy drifted by, remarking dryly “Are you two made of Velcro?” as she passed them whilst doing her pre-departure headcount and Javier clicked his tongue as he slid into the seat behind. It all washed over Shoma – he was too tired to let himself care what they thought. Yuzuru didn’t bother stirring him until they reached the border checkpoint and the group were required to leave the bus for a handover ceremony and more pointless photographs. Fortunately the ceremony was brief, and for once Yuzuru wasn’t being placed front and centre; as he wasn’t required to give a speech or make any presentations, he was free to stand close to Shoma, whispering sly remarks, flicking his temple when he looked like he was falling asleep and subtly propping him back up when his head began to droop. Shoma wasn’t convinced he’d actually been fully conscious during the whole ordeal, but no one seemed particularly displeased with him as they were all duly checked by the appropriate authorities and shepherded back onto the bus to continue their four hour drive. As soon as Yuzuru collapsed back into the bus seat beside him, Shoma slumped against him once more and promptly fell back asleep.

It was the change in the air that woke him; Malaysia felt different to Singapore, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way which was jarring to someone with the ability to sense whose nerve endings were already frayed. The air was just as full and bright, but there wasn’t the same neat, contained sense of purpose – Malaysia was roving and whirling, charmingly bolshie and a little chaotic at its edges, something quietly insistent in its air which nagged at Shoma’s edges, demanding attention. He pushed himself up, squinting out of the window with mild curiosity, but the blur of scenery was hard to process and he let out a soft huff, flopping back against Yuzuru with more force than was necessary and drawing a low sound of complaint out of him.  
‘Ow,’ Yuzuru said, dry and pointed as he dug an elbow into Shoma’s side, and Shoma whined.  
‘ _Ow_ ,’ he echoed more forcefully, elbowing Yuzuru back and laughing when he fought his corner, the two of them a childish tangle of limbs as they scrambled about in the small space. They ended up squashed against the window together, Yuzuru lying mostly on top of Shoma, who was half-laughing, half-moaning as he tried to push him away; over Yuzuru’s head, Shoma could see Keiji watching them with bright, quiet eyes, his mouth a thin, unreadable line, and it made Shoma blush slightly. ‘Are you _five_?!’ he demanded with a pout, finally pushing Yuzuru back and getting a high, ridiculous laugh for his troubles.  
‘Shush, you – my whole left side has gone to sleep from you leaning on me. You’re small but you’re heavy,’ he protested, pulling a face, and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.  
‘Baby,’ he muttered, pursing his lips to stop from smiling. Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled and Shoma shivered at the feeling of lightning creeping up on him and sending sparks across his skin. ‘Quit it,’ he said without a hint of sincerity, glancing down with a shy smile and pushing back just a little with his own power, much to Yuzuru’s delight.  
‘At last – sunlight!’ he declared happily, giving one of his absurd, tiny claps and beaming even wider when Shoma gave him a shove by way of a retort.

The scenery beyond the window was beginning to change, and Shoma looked out as rural shifted into urban, his features pinching into a faint frown when the feeling of the air began to transform with it, a cooler, darker energy seeping in at the edges. He pulled his knees up to his chest and studied the buildings and the people, realising, for the first time, that there were crowds on the streets, sparse in some places and denser in others. At some point whilst he’d been sleeping, a police escort had surrounded their coach, and their lights briefly flashed in warning to other motorists and onlookers who spilled off the pavements and into the road. As always, the real world had tugged on Shoma’s strings, pulling him back with painful force, and he sighed, holding himself in a little more tightly. A small, lopsided smile crossed his face at the feeling of Yuzuru’s gentle fingers, brushing oh-so-briefly at his neck in a soothing, distracting gesture, and he lifted his head, looking back at him through sad, tired eyes. ‘Why does the outside scare you so much?’ Yuzuru asked him softly, lifting his hand again to trace the edge of Shoma’s face. He tucked the strands of his hair into some sort of order with sweet, caring strokes that made Shoma’s heart turn over in his chest, and he closed his eyes against the feeling, humming softly and trying to dispel some of the tension he had allowed in.  
‘I guess I don’t like uncertainty,’ he admitted after a beat, opening his eyes again slowly and finding Yuzuru looking at him with curiously, his gaze shining with intensity, but also with a depth of feeling that Shoma hoped was only his to know. ‘I like when things are clear, when people say what they mean and their actions bear it out. I like to know what’s coming and see the warning signs.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘But the outside? It isn’t like that. It has claws. And free will. And no respect for what is precious to you.’ Shoma swallowed, glancing down. ‘The outside is where the change gets in.’

Yuzuru hummed, shifting just a little so that he was facing Shoma properly. He studied him for a moment, somehow solemn and starry-eyed at the same time, his gaze roaming Shoma’s face.  
‘Without the outside, we might never have known each other,’ he said softly, the words hitting Shoma somewhere inside his ribcage with a dull, thudding ache. ‘The outside is where the stories are; you can’t give up on it because it tricked you once. How can you take one of its stories for yourself and expect it to make sense without the light and shadow it was born from?’ He smiled sadly, shaking his head. ‘Grey is a colour, but we say Grey Zones have lost their colours because there is no other colour left – without the contrast, the whole spectrum of light and shade, there are no dreams.’ Shoma lifted his head, meeting Yuzuru’s gaze.  
‘Then why does the world destroy and misunderstand so much, Yuzu? If the stories belong to it, why does it chew its best ones up and spit them out?’ Yuzuru sighed, and he reached out, shifting closer. His hand touched Shoma’s jaw and his eyes lingered on the point of contact for a beat before he looked up.  
‘You just have to learn to focus on the good. And appreciate the quiet moments in between.’ Shoma looked down, biting at his lip.  
‘It takes a lot to look the bad in the face and still believe the good is bigger, though.’  
‘I know,’ Yuzuru murmured, resigned. ‘But sometimes you catch a glimpse of sunlight on your face, and it reminds you that the good can leave its mark just as keenly as the bad. To know the full power of that warmth, you have to have also known the feeling of ice.’ Shoma looked into his face for a moment, taking in the contrast of soft and sharp; Yuzuru was a walking contradiction, proof that light and shade could be beautifully at odds without being a cause for fear.  
‘There are people out there on those streets right now who are _so angry_ , Yuzu. Some of them hate us – hate _you_. If I can feel it, you must too.’ Yuzuru nodded slowly, looking down, something broken briefly crossing his features.  
‘I know. I can sense them as well,’ he admitted in a whisper, his forehead creasing just a little. ‘But I have to trust that they are angry because of something – something they fear or which hurt them, something for which there is no one else to blame so they blame me and it makes it better for them. I’m an easy target; because I am visible, saying things they find hard to believe in any longer and not giving them back whatever it is they have lost.’ He looked back up at Shoma with a tragic smile. ‘There are other voices though – other feelings. There are people who care, or who see something in me. People with enough heart to lift me when I feel the weight of the bad is too much. I have learnt when to cry and when to hide. But I have also learnt that the outside must be faced. For me? There is no other way. The world is messy and tortured, but beautiful; I want to feel it, to help it, to know it. Always. I never want to lose the feeling of real magic, even if I must pay a high price.’  
‘I’m sorry,’ Shoma said, so soft it was almost a breath, and Yuzuru smiled at him, his eyes a thunderstorm and his lips a sweet curve as he leant in to press a kiss to Shoma’s forehead.  
‘Don’t be,’ he said, his voice tickling Shoma’s skin. ‘It’s just the life we’ve been given, I guess.’ Shoma closed his eyes, nodding faintly as Yuzuru pulled him close.

Their arrival at the hotel was a chaos of press and officials and protestors, too many voices hot and sharp in the stuffy afternoon air; Shoma winced and let Yuzuru pull him protectively across to the opposite side from the barriers, shielding him with his body against the flashbulbs and microphones and sending enough of a jolt of lightning into the atmosphere that even the crowd seemed to sense some trace of it, something in his eyes growing fierce and stilling the simmer of animosity in its tracks. Everyone was tired and worn-thin from the early start, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it; Brian and Tracy herded them into the care of the waiting officials, who led them all straight through to the hotel’s function room, where yet another welcome presentation and in-depth talk from bland-faced people in rumpled suits was set ahead of them. Yuzuru ducked out of the speeches with a pleading look in Brian’s direction, but he couldn’t avoid doing his duty in meeting the high-ranking Malaysian government representatives who had come for the event, and Shoma had resorted to sticking to Keiji like glue instead. The supposedly-informal-but-ultimately-tense reception that followed dragged on so long Shoma lost all sense of what time of day it even was; he realised, dimly, he had met the leaders of at least three countries and two prominent figures from the UN without once raising a smile, and he wondered, not for the first time, how he ever would have coped had he been thrust into the spotlight from the age Yuzuru had, because he was supposedly an adult now and he still couldn’t cope with the expectations, the question of what exactly it was that people wanted from him and if he could actually provide it.

Everyone was so relieved to finally be able to retreat to their rooms that for once there was no talk of sightseeing or shopping or sneaking off to do something Brian would probably not approve of; Brian shook his head as he distributed the room keys, sighing faintly “I’ve finally broken you all, I guess” as everyone crowded around and begged him to hurry up. Yuzuru perched, unbothered by the fuss, on the arm of one of the lobby’s sofas, watching the clamour with a lack of expression that was so unnatural on his face Shoma wanted to heal it away, and when Yuzuru blinked and sat up a little straighter suddenly, he realised his power had taken the initiative all on its own – Yuzuru’s eyes found him immediately across the crowd, the life suddenly back in them and the full force of his spirit focusing in on Shoma with brilliant intensity as he smiled.

Shoma blushed, shrugging awkwardly and rolling his eyes, and Yuzuru laughed, delighted but softer than usual, flashing Shoma a wink and hopping down from where he was balancing, coming to join Shoma on the other side of the group. He bumped their shoulders in greeting and Shoma smiled up at him quietly.  
‘Hi,’ he murmured, and Yuzuru’s lips curled at one corner.  
‘So apparently the Danish Minister For Power thinks you have a “kind face”,’ he remarked casually, and Shoma frowned.  
‘I met a Danish minister today?’ he asked. Yuzuru laughed, pulling a face.  
‘Sho.’  
‘What? There were a lot of really long job titles and weird names, I stopped following after that woman who kept patting my shoulder like I was made of velvet or something.’  
‘Who could blame her, Sho? Your _soul_ is made of velvet,’ Yuzuru declared with feeling, nudging Shoma in the side, and Shoma shot him a curious look that Yuzuru ignored. ‘Also? She’s the head of the UN Grey Zone Advisory Committee and I’m pretty sure she’s been awake for about forty-eight hours…and travelling for twice that. She’s talking at the summit tomorrow; contingency plans and long-term effects of Grey Zones, that sort of thing…she’s got…a lot on her mind, so maybe you should give her a break.’  
‘Sure, you can say that, but she didn’t pat _you_ ,’ Shoma pointed out. Yuzuru wrinkled his nose.  
‘She used to, before I got taller than her.’  
‘Great, I’ll go back to working on growing then,’ Shoma deadpanned and Yuzuru smirked.  
‘Your height is your weapon, Shoma. Small but fierce is something valuable.’ He shrugged. ‘Plus it’s cute. I like that you have to be on tiptoes when you try to fight me.’ Shoma shot him a half-hearted glare, kicking his ankle and trying not to smile, and Yuzuru grinned brightly, tilting his head to one side. ‘What, no comeback?’  
‘It is half-past-what-are-we-doing-here and I’m _tired_ , Yuzu – go find a new victim. Or, you know, stop being a troll when you’re sleep deprived. Either option is fine by me,’ Shoma huffed, and Yuzuru suppressed a smile, humming as though he was considering his choices extremely carefully.  
‘So…I should find someone else to spend my time with, you think?’ He folded his arms, lifting one finger and tapping it against his lips; Shoma knew he was aware of him watching the motion, was certain he was deliberately letting him take in the fresh coat of lip balm there and the slight pop of his finger against it. ‘Jason? Javi? Keiji? Who do you think would most appreciate all the attention I shouldn’t be giving you, huh?’ He slowly looked over at Shoma, raising his eyebrows, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him. ‘No?’ He gave an innocent flutter of his eyelashes that was entirely undermined by the wicked smile on his face, and Shoma pursed his lips to stop from laughing, flicking Yuzuru’s ear and shaking his head.  
‘You’re just a troll all the time, aren’t you,’ he muttered darkly, a smile creeping up on him when Yuzuru simply leant against him by way of a reply, resting his head against Shoma’s for a brief moment, his face turned in so it was almost a kiss. Suddenly Shoma was fine with being short; he felt his heart make a bid to relocate to his throat and took a deep breath, keeping his eyes ahead and pretending not to notice the sensation of thunder rumbling in his ears. There were – for once – no eyes on them, and it seemed that, when he was around him, Yuzuru was happy to forget that he possessed any guards at all; Shoma distracted him from any notions of duty or PR, stripped him back to bare bones and silliness. It was as terrifying a realisation as it was sweet and Shoma didn’t know what to do with the information, choosing to file it away in the back of his brain for analysing later, when he was less sleep-deprived and Yuzuru’s warmth beside him wasn’t making his head fuzzy with contentment.

Brian examined the names on the remaining keycard sleeves and turned slowly, narrowing his eyes at the group of entirely Japanese faces now left in front of him.  
‘Team Japan,’ he said, tired eyes suddenly twinkling and a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. ‘Clearly being very wise people, the hotel have chosen to split you all up over four different floors, so I’m afraid your mischief-making is going to have to be long distance for the next couple of days.’ He smiled at the expected protests from the girls. ‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll be just fine: I have every confidence you will all end up cramming into one room anyway.’  
‘Well he’s got us there,’ Kaori giggled. Brian nodded wryly, then turned towards Yuzuru and Shoma, plucking out two cards from the stack and handing them both to Yuzuru.  
‘I trust you’re in charge of making sure Shoma doesn’t fall asleep in the elevator on the way to his room?’ he remarked, one eyebrow arched and his expression kind but teasing. Shoma pulled a face.  
‘I’m literally right here. Completely awake,’ he said and Brian chuckled.  
‘For now,’ he joked, and Shoma scrunched his face up in protest.  
‘I’m not his minder, you know,’ Yuzuru put in, wrinkling his nose at Brian in an unconvincing show of irritation.  
‘Well then stop minding what he’s doing so much and I might believe you, Yuzu,’ Brian smiled, looking between the two of them knowingly before turning to Keiji and waving a key at him. As Brian continued his rounds, Yuzuru shot Shoma sidelong glance.  
‘Would you describe me as “unsubtle”, Shoma?’ he asked lightly and Shoma smirked.  
‘It’s…one of the kinder words I’d use to describe you, sure,’ he shrugged, and Yuzuru let out a whiny sound of complaint, smacking his arm and huffing childishly.  
‘Just for that you can look after your own keycard,’ he sighed, handing one of the two keycard sleeves to Shoma and pulling a face.  
‘I’m so…scared?’ Shoma laughed, rolling his eyes. ‘You need to work on your threats, Yuzu: you’re losing your touch.’  
‘Shut up and come on,’ Yuzuru smiled, nodding his head towards the lifts and grabbing Shoma forcefully by the arm.  
‘You’re a walking bruise, you know that?’ Shoma grumbled good-naturedly as he half-stumbled after him, and Yuzuru shot him a dizzy smile over his shoulder.  
‘Yeah, but you still think I’m wonderful.’  
‘Don’t push it.’  
‘Sho: I’m all push, always!’

The babble of the rest of Team Japan rose up just behind them, and Shoma glanced back at them, catching Keiji’s eye and pulling a face when he did the now-familiar eyebrow raise he had taken to giving Shoma every time he found him in Yuzuru’s company.  
‘I’m gonna sleep for a month when we get back to the Foundation!’ Wakaba announced, throwing an arm around Kaori and Satoko’s shoulders as she caught up with them. ‘Who is going to carry me to my room, huh?’  
‘Not Yuzu: pretty sure he’s already volunteered to take on Shoma,’ Keiji remarked archly.  
‘You think you’re joking, but…it’s probably true,’ Yuzuru called back over his shoulder, tugging Shoma closer to him, his expression conspiratorial yet silly.  
‘Well I can barely carry myself, so don’t look at me,’ Kazuki offered through a yawn.  
‘Yeah, I think I might just sleep in the lobby,’ Mai giggled.  
‘Oo, Team Japan Lobby Sleep-In, anyone?’ Wakaba joked. ‘We can use our blazers as blankets; better than using them as a fashion statement.’  
‘For someone who wants to sleep, you are frighteningly wide awake right now,’ Kaori pointed out with a laugh, and Wakaba made faint protests, leaning her weight a little more on Kaori and Satoko until they laughingly complained and smacked her away.  
‘No fun,’ she pouted at them, eyes sparkling.  
‘Our new team motto is “Wakaba, Please Let Us Sleep”,’ Satoko teased.  
‘Which is a vast improvement on “Is Shoma Plotting To Kill Us Or Has He Just Zoned Out Again”, honestly,’ Keiji added dryly. Yuzuru pressed the button for the lift and pulled Shoma away from making any retort to the group behind them, pushing him in front of him through the doors as they opened and shooting him an amused smile as he slipped in after him.  
‘Easy now, Sho; you’ll only prove them right,’ he teased.

Just as the others were about to follow them into the lift, Satoko suddenly stepped forward, standing in front of the doors and holding out her arms in a preventative gesture.  
‘Actually, we’re all on different floors to them – so maybe we should get the next one,’ she announced, glancing briefly back over her shoulder at Shoma with a devilish smile.  
‘But…Brian said I’m on Shoma’s floor th-’ Kazuki began with immense confusion, only to be cut off by Keiji reaching out to yank him backwards by his backpack, almost overbalancing him as he pulled him close. The last thing Shoma saw as the lift doors closed was Keiji’s hand clamping over Kazuki’s mouth, an action that was rewarded by Satoko giving him a small thumbs up as he forced a mild, nothing-to-see-here smile at the rest of the group. Yuzuru let out an ungracious laugh, placing a hand over his chest to try and stifle the sound, and Shoma looked up at him with a dry smirk, rolling his eyes.  
‘I’m so glad we have subtle friends,’ he sighed, and Yuzuru nodded, amusement still dancing in his eyes even as he reached out and tugged Shoma closer.

Shoma half-fell across the distance, coming to an abrupt halt barely half an inch from Yuzuru’s body. The space crossed was small, but it shifted everything between them in an instant, and Shoma felt a shiver run down his spine as he slowly lifted his gaze. He stared up at Yuzuru with wide, dark eyes, taking in the frayed wildness lingering in him – a side effect of a day of pent-up energy and polite half-smiles. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he touched a hand to the side of Shoma’s face; Shoma let out a soft hum and closed his eyes. He felt Yuzuru press his thumb oh-so-lightly to the corner of his eyelid, the line of his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose. And then his fingers curled against his skin where his jaw squared off, cool and soothing against the rising blush there. He stepped ever so slightly closer, and Shoma opened his eyes once more, blinking sluggishly up at him; he was haloed in the fuzzy yellow glow of the lift, bracing himself with one arm on the railing behind him, his body elegant as he stretched up to his full height. He looked into Shoma’s face with a curious mixture of deep sadness and immense hope, a wonder in his eyes that made Shoma’s skin prickle and his chest feel tight. ‘Please,’ Shoma whispered. ‘Don’t make this complicated right now.’ Yuzuru nodded, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips.  
‘Of course not,’ he murmured. ‘What’s complicated when it’s just the two of us, huh?’ he asked, his knuckles grazing Shoma’s cheek again as he considered him, his eyes shining with the faintest flecks of gold. Shoma closed his eyes, letting out a caught-in-his-throat sigh and smiling despite himself when Yuzuru finally leant in and captured his lips with his own. With Yuzuru having the extra height from the railing, Shoma had to strain up further onto his tiptoes to reach him – he used the lapels of Yuzuru’s blazer to steady himself, arching a little against him and pulling back just enough to make Yuzuru have to chase, stealing a messy peck from the corner of Shoma’s mouth before drawing him back in again with a laugh. ‘You’re too short, I have to work so hard to level the playing field here,’ he complained, his grip tightening around Shoma’s body as he pulled him closer.  
‘It’s not my fault you’re a spindly nightmare, Yu-’  
‘Just be quiet,’ Yuzuru told him with a grin, quickly cutting off any further protest with another kiss, soft and slow, and laughing again when Shoma swayed back just a little, the sound breathy and gentle. He brought a tender hand up to catch him, lowering him back down and leaning their foreheads together with a hum. ‘See? Simple,’ he whispered, thumb stroking Shoma’s skin again. Shoma blinked and refocused slightly, managing to make out Yuzuru’s smiling face from the blur and feeling his heartbeat in his ears at the sight of that look in his eyes. He was messy and beautiful and his fingers were reverently tender as they brushed the hair from Shoma’s eyes, tracing the outline of his face. Yuzuru’s very being was power, and it fizzed to the surface in him when he smiled that way, lighting him up and making him look vivid and unearthly to Shoma’s eyes – but somehow in that strength there was a sort of gentleness that was all-encompassing and addictive, and Shoma breathed it in greedily, enjoying the dreamlike softness of it and letting it soothe him. ‘Hi,’ Yuzuru said as Shoma’s gaze finally came back into focus, and just like that he was suddenly mischievous and ridiculous again. It made Shoma laugh, soft and shy, as he let out a nervous breath.  
‘Hi,’ he replied. Yuzuru’s smile widened just a little, silly and fond, and for a beat they just looked at each other, until the silence was broken by the lift announcing its arrival on Shoma’s floor.

As the doors opened the two of them drew back from each other, Shoma glancing back up at Yuzuru with a shy smile and being rewarded with an affectionate, twinkly-eyed look in return.  
‘Until tomorrow, Shoma,’ Yuzuru sighed, and Shoma nodded.  
‘Yeah. Until tomorrow,’ he replied, moving to go before turning back, putting one hand to the doors to stop them closing and holding the other out to Yuzuru with an impish smile, arching one eyebrow invitingly. Yuzuru laughed and reached across, giving him the demanded low-five and following it up by bumping their fists and then hooking their little fingers. They didn’t let go after the handshake, instead looking up at each other with soft, faintly amused smiles for a moment, each daring the other to be the first to let go. Yuzuru scrunched his nose at Shoma, rolling his eyes.  
‘Goodnight, Sho. Try not to overthink and just get some rest, ok?’ he told him, tugging himself towards Shoma by their joined fingers and leaning in to kiss his forehead lightly.  
‘I’ll try,’ Shoma nodded, before reluctantly stepping back and letting go. He watched the lift doors close on Yuzuru with a warm smile, shaking his head slightly before turning to head for his room with a sigh.

There was, as always, too much information coming in too fast, and somewhere along the way Shoma realised he had surrendered and stopped even trying to process it. His system was used to short-circuiting from the rush and shutting down when things got too much, but somehow he was still standing, through a mixture of Yuzuru’s healing power and whatever it was that always happened to his nerve endings every time the two of them pulled close. He was making a bigger mess for himself, letting the problems and the feelings and the possibilities pile up outside his door. But he didn’t want to deal with it when Yuzuru smiled at him like that – all he wanted to acknowledge was how the light always found new colours in his eyes and the way his fingers felt curiously cool but delicate against his skin. Shoma let himself into his room, shut the door behind him and stood, for a moment, with his back to it, eyes closing as he took a deep breath and pushed everything away. He was exhausted, too exhausted to be chasing questions around his brain instead of sleeping; whether it was the long drive, the formal welcome or simply the lullaby of lightning Yuzuru offered him from afar, Shoma couldn’t be sure, but less than a minute after his head hit the pillow that night, he drifted into a dark, full and happily dreamless sleep.

It was a full hour before his alarm was due to go off when Shoma was woken the next morning, his phone vibrating insistently against the bedside table and making him groan. He reached out for it blindly, opening one eye and yanking it from its charger with more force than was really necessary before bringing it up to his face, squinting at the screen for a moment and letting out a low groan. Itsuki – of course. Shoma wanted to just roll over ignore it, but his brother would only keep ringing until he answered, because apparently the stubborn gene was one of the traits they had both managed to inherit from their mother.

‘UPDATE PLEASE,’ Itsuki yelled by way of a greeting, hurting Shoma’s ears. He was in his school uniform, his hair unusually neat and early morning sunlight making him look fresh-faced and innocent – it was jarring, considering Shoma knew full well this was Itsuki at peak Demon Little Brother, and he winced slightly, grunting something incomprehensible and rubbing his eyes.  
‘What time is it?’ he mumbled, rolling over to prop himself up. ‘Shouldn’t you be at school already?’  
‘Maths really isn’t your strong suit, Sho; I still have, like, an hour,’ Itsuki dismissed, rolling his eyes. ‘Now stop trying to change the subject! You. Superpower Boy. Update. Now.’ Shoma groaned again, rubbing his face and sinking down under the covers.  
‘Urgh, fine: still doomed,’ he whined, peeking out from between his fingers. ‘Also still kissing him, so…there’s that,’ he added more quietly, and Itsuki let out a sound of frustration, his head tipping back for a moment.  
‘Shoma!’ he complained, mostly to the ceiling, before looking back down at his phone with another roll of his eyes. ‘Seriously, why do you insist on making the biggest mess out of the most straightforward human interactions?’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘But this isn’t straightforward, ok? It’s complicated and I don’t know how else you expect me to even deal with it.’  
‘It’s complicated because you’re _making_ it complicated, Sho,’ Itsuki said, frustrated but softening a little. ‘How did I get stuck with the only older sibling in the world who needs their kid brother to figure out their relationship for them?’ he added dryly, and Shoma glowered at him.  
‘Shut up; you don’t get it, ok? This is _Yuzu_. Everything about him is complicated; he’s leading fifty different lives as fifty different versions of himself, pleasing everyone and no one all the time and feeling everything a million times more than anyone else. He’s breaking, constantly. And putting himself back together and just shrugging it off: working harder, shining harder, caring harder. He’s from another planet – but he will do anything to save this one. And nothing about him is ever going to fall under the title of “straightforward”, ok? Nothing except when we’re alone. And then it feels like maybe the most straightforward thing in the world – and trying to overthink it is too much effort and I don’t have the will to try anymore. He’s used up all my powers of resistance and I have no clue what I’m doing any longer.’  
‘Wow, Sho. You’ve really got it bad, huh?’  
‘Thank you, oh Wise One,’ Shoma deadpanned darkly and Itsuki pulled a face. ‘I just…I keep trying to reconcile the easy and the terrifying in a way that actually makes sense. And I don’t know how to. And I don’t know how to exist on the stage he’s on. But then I think about what I have to lose…him, myself. Everything. And it’s not like he can walk away from this world – it’s part of him, and I have to accept that. Because I would never want him to have to change.’

There was a pause into which Shoma shrugged helplessly, looking down, and he heard Itsuki sigh, despairing and sympathetic in equal measure. It was strangely comforting, in that way that Itsuki always managed to find when Shoma needed it most. Although whatever was coming would only serve to remind him he was playing a dangerous game, he knew he needed to hear it, and there was something softening about having the reality check come from someone who he knew genuinely cared about whether or not this all blew up in his face.  
‘If that’s really how you feel…then you know you have to tell him, right?’ Itsuki said at last, his voice suddenly incredibly soft; it was a rare moment of gentleness in his usually boisterous brother that was sweet but somehow wounding at the same time. Shoma swallowed and closed his eyes.  
‘I have. He…he knows,’ he whispered. Itsuki sighed again.  
‘No, Sho. He _says_ he knows. I don’t know him like you do, but this one is just common sense, ok? He gives you the PR smile and he tells you it’s ok, but deep down? You know he’s hoping there’s a chance your view might change, that maybe you’re actually going to stay because…well, you have every other time he’s asked.’ Shoma bit his lip, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut, and Itsuki let out a sound which was both exasperated and kind. ‘You can’t be so dumb you don’t see this, right?’  
‘See what?’ Shoma asked, finally opening his eyes. Itsuki looked at him – concerned and annoyed and still faintly amused – and Shoma turned his eyes upwards, petulant in his refusal to acknowledge he even remotely followed Itsuki’s logic.  
‘I’m on your team, ok? However badly this mess plays out. But…if you keep this up, Sho, you know exactly how it’s gonna go.’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘Every time you kiss him again, you’re giving him false hope. And worse? You’re just giving the both of you even more to lose. This has heartache and angst written all over it, and if you keep going this way…it can only end in more pain. There’s a giant Emotional Baggage Train heading your way and you’re just hanging out of the tracks kissing your not-boyfriend instead of warning him. You’re not saving him – and what’s worse is that you’re not even really saving yourself.’

Shoma was quiet for a long time, deliberately avoiding meeting Itsuki’s gaze and determinedly trying not to remember the sweet, tender look on Yuzuru’s face or the tension needed in his body just to lean up into his kiss.  
‘I hate how much you’re right,’ he murmured at last, wetting his lips and swallowing hard, and Itsuki let out a small, laugh, wrinkling his nose.  
‘Really not the way I wanted to finally hear those words from you, but I’ll take it I guess,’ he sighed. ‘Good job one of us inherited our parents’ smarts, huh?’ he added, soft but teasing, and Shoma whined, huffing out a reluctant laugh.  
‘Yeah, whatever; I inherited all the looks though.’  
‘Pretty enough to make Yuzuru Hanyu fall head-over-heels, apparently. Although, I can’t see it myself,’ Itsuki smiled, no trace of sharpness in his words, and Shoma sighed, letting out a soft sound of complaint.  
‘I’m so screwed.’  
‘Yeah. Apparently.’ Shoma looked up at Itsuki with a slight glare.  
‘Thanks a lot,’ he deadpanned and Itsuki shrugged, still smiling kindly.  
‘Sorry.’  
‘I know,’ Shoma nodded, looking down with a sigh. ‘I think maybe I’m going to end up being sorry too, honestly.’ 

After finally dispatching Itsuki with a sulky “Go to school already” and a promise to think about what he’d said, Shoma had managed to drag himself from his bed and get ready with time to spare; he hadn’t wanted to lie in, all the appeal of the prospect lost since Itsuki had pestered him into thinking about the million things he was desperate to lock away for a little while longer. The quiet of his cocoon of covers would only set his mind racing, and if he lay in too long he ran the risk of Satoko coming to drag him down to breakfast, full of questions and knowing smiles. Or worse, of Yuzuru bringing breakfast to him and tempting him with morning kisses in the haven of his room, making his starchy hotel sheets smell of jasmine and bergamot and getting the taste of marshmallows on his lips. Shoma closed his eyes and forced the thought down, told himself not to want it. He pulled on his Foundation jacket and grabbed his phone with the same sulkiness he would usually reserve for when his mother made pointed remarks about him not missing the bus for a change.

It was still early, but Shoma wasn’t entirely surprised to run into Keiji waiting by the lifts; he nodded to Shoma mid-yawn and Shoma nodded back, coming to stand beside him and holding his breath. For the most part he trusted Keiji not to pester him, but he was also aware that he had been watching him and Yuzuru with solemn, thoughtful eyes for most of the previous day, and he wasn’t entirely sure what it was he had been looking for, only that he didn’t want him to come looking for it again right now.  
‘Morning,’ Keiji said with a worn smile and Shoma smiled back vaguely, tipping his head to one side and flicking his hair from his eyes as his body lolled with the motion.  
‘Is that what time of day this is? I’ve lost track.’ Keiji chuckled, nodding slowly.  
‘Haven’t we all?’ He yawned again, glancing up as the lift arrived. ‘Are you even remotely prepared for today?’ he asked, stepping into the lift and glancing back at Shoma over his shoulder expectantly. Shoma pulled a face and followed him.  
‘What makes you think I would be prepared?’ he shot back dryly and Keiji smiled.  
‘Fair enough,’ he nodded. ‘If it helps? None of us are.’ He shrugged. ‘We always do this on these things – we use up all our energy on the first leg, then by the time the actual summit rolls around we’re spent.’ He leant his head back against the wall and sighed. ‘It’s times like this I’m glad I’m not one of the PR darlings, you know? Yuzu, Javi, Zhenya…Tessa and Scot, the Shibs, even Adam these days, they’re always having to fit in other projects on the side, extra meetings and speeches. I just couldn’t do it.’ He opened one eye, looking over at Shoma. ‘You want to watch it, you know; you stay as popular with the media as you have been on this trip and they’ll start coming for you too. Yours and Yuzu’s little double-act is pulling in quite the fanbase in the press back home, I hear. And we all know how high Yuzu’s star rises.’ Shoma quickly looked down, nodding absently and worrying at his lip.  
‘Yeah…I’m pretty sure he’s already on meeting number…three, by now? He told me what time he had to get up but I was too horrified to take it in. He’s definitely had breakfast with the president of…somewhere, already. Him, Brian and Javi, I think. Nathan was going with him to some US government thing too. It’s ridiculous.’  
‘You’d be surprised how effective it is though. Yuzu alone brought in about a million in funding last trip.’ Keiji’s smile turned mischievous then, and he elbowed Shoma lightly. ‘And hey, if you get in on the act at least you’d make the most of the five different breakfast sittings you’d end up getting invited to – which is more than Yuzu ever does.’ Shoma shuddered.  
‘I don’t think it’d be worth the price, to be honest,’ he muttered.  
‘Do you mean the early starts or the being cooped up with Yuzu all the time?’ Keiji teased and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him. Keiji’s eyes seemed to glint as he regarded Shoma thoughtfully, something in them turning more serious, and Shoma felt instantly self-conscious under the scrutiny.  
‘Please don’t say it.’ Keiji frowned.  
‘Say what?’  
‘Whatever it is you were about to say – just…I’ve already had an earful from my brother this morning, I don’t think I can deal with one from you too.’ Keiji’s expression gentled into a vaguely amused smile, and he shrugged idly.  
‘Actually, I wasn’t going to say anything, honestly. Because I am the one person on Team Japan who thinks people should be allowed to deal with their own problems if that’s what they want,’ he said, tilting his head slightly. ‘But, since you brought it up, maybe that means you want to talk about it after all.’ Shoma groaned, letting his head drop back and scrunching up his face in a wince. He closed his eyes and felt Keiji gently knock his elbow against him, a strangely comforting, brotherly gesture that made him feel a little easier. ‘Look, just…all I want to know is…do you know what you’re doing yet?’ Keiji asked him, slow and careful, and Shoma drew in a deep breath, tipping his head to one side and glancing up at him quietly.  
‘Yes?’ he ventured, his forehead furrowed into a pained frown. ‘Maybe?’ He sighed, flopping back against the corner of the lift with another groan. ‘Probably not,’ he admitted finally.

Keiji’s smile was wonky and sympathetic, and Shoma appreciated the simple quietness of it, the very controlled sort of care Keiji was always so good at offering. Like how he’d stare off into the distance and let Yuzuru babble when he needed to let out some nervous energy, or touch a hand to Kanako’s elbow when a bad day dented her usual vivacity; he was subtle but always sure, never loud but also firm. ‘Have you been talking to Satoko?’ Shoma asked somewhat grumpily, and Keiji laughed.  
‘Please, like I need to talk to her when all I have to do is look at you and Yuzu together and get a whole picture,’ he said, not unkindly, and Shoma whined, bringing his hands up to cover his face. ‘Yeah…Yuzu and emotional repression don’t go together so well; besides, he lights up like a firework when you’re around him. He’s kind of…perpetually delighted by you, even when you’re awful. It’s sweet but…doesn’t give you much room for pretending you guys are just friends. Not to those of us who know you both well enough, anyway.’  
‘We _are_ just friends though,’ Shoma protested quickly and Keiji arched an eyebrow, his expression dryly sceptical. Shoma groaned again, throwing up his hands in mild frustration. ‘Fine. We’re…not _just_ friends but…it’s not like I know _what_ we are so…’ He shrugged, gesturing vaguely with his hands, and Keiji nodded, looking down at the floor with a sigh.  
‘I get that,’ he said carefully. ‘But…look, Shoma…I’m not going to pretend to know how you and Yuzu sort out whatever is going on with the two of you, and I’m not going to tell you what to do. But…if you’re not sure about this, in any way? You should probably start backing out now. Because this is Yuzu, you know? And once you’re in…you’re in. His world doesn’t really come with an eject button – you can’t put the media genie back in its bottle. And more importantly? You can’t put the “Finally Not Alone” genie back its bottle either.’ Keiji put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in just enough to force Shoma to meet his gaze. ‘He needs this. More than he would want to admit. And he needs you – someone blunt and intuitive and just as stubborn as he is. Someone who will listen but never take any of his nonsense. We are all friends with a part of him. But you – you don’t settle for anything less. And all of Yuzu? The real Yuzu? Is definitely not anything less. He doesn’t get to show that to many people. But he got to show that to you. So…please…just…don’t break his heart if you can help it, ok?’ Keiji’s tone was low and serious – solemn enough to make Shoma really listen. Like his power, he was unassuming but clear, always clam and careful – he didn’t venture into other people’s business without intense consideration first and Shoma took his words all the more seriously as a result, because he knew they were given from a place of deep care and even deeper thought. ‘Back at the Foundation, when whatever happened was happening and you hid in your room? I didn’t really buy our Team Japan line, honestly. I didn’t think it had to all be on Yuzu…but then, I didn’t think it had to be all on you either. I know that he isn’t as callous as people seemed to want to believe. And I also know you’re not that soft and innocent either. They babied you and demonised him, because that was simpler – simplifying you both was the easy way to cope. But I saw the panic in Yuzu’s eyes when he couldn’t sense you, Shoma. And the pain when he realised you were somehow doing it on purpose. And it reminded me that…on the surface he is gold and fire, but underneath? It’s all bird bones and shell. He is full of feeling – a human nerve ending. And like a lot of crazy, magical things, like a lot of people with beautiful hearts…he is raw and too easily damaged.’ Keiji shrugged. ‘Maybe to the rest of the world, it looks like he is the strong one. But I think you need to remember that you know better. In a lot of ways, Shoma, you are stronger than him – because you know your own boundaries and are always brave enough to say stop when it gets too much. Yuzu can’t do that, and he wouldn’t even if he knew how; he’s used to having to apologize for showing the barest hint of his humanity. He’s a feather on the breeze; but you’re made of steel. Underneath the soft surface? You’re all roots and earth. So either offer him a branch to catch on or let him fly, but don’t pretend. He won’t thank you for it. He’ll just smile and drift off into the night and never be seen again. I saw it once before, you know? Him barely holding it together, trying to remember who he was and how to breathe. After he faced down The Snatchers and his skin stayed like ash for weeks. He was breaking and he told us he wasn’t. And most of the time he was strong enough to make us almost believe him. But I’m not sure he would be able to do that again. It is a lot to ask him to give up: being found after a lifetime of allowing himself to be misplaced. Which makes it your responsibility, Shoma. As the one who found him. It is your duty – to find his limit for him and not push him beyond it. Don’t make the mistake of assuming he can take anything: you know better, and you are bold enough to accept that you do.’

Shoma was saved from answering by the lift’s arrival on the ground floor, and Keiji smiled, patting his shoulder kindly. ‘Just think about it, ok?’ he sighed, and Shoma nodded vaguely. Keiji nodded back, slow and quiet, then straightened, blowing out a breath. ‘Come on; you look like you could use some food,’ he said, slinging an arm around Shoma’s shoulders and steering him gently forwards. As they headed into the breakfast room, Keiji made a beeline for the more-subdued-than-usual Team Japan table, and Shoma chose to sit next to Kazuki, grateful of the guaranteed respite from uncomfortable questions he knew he would provide. As he slumped down in his seat, Kazuki shared a sympathetic smile with him.  
‘I used to think pancakes could cure anything, but…turns out they lose their charm when you’re running on a week of no sleep,’ he grinned, rolling his eyes conspiratorially and making Shoma laugh.

Despite Shoma’s initial reservations, the steady patter of Japanese voices talking over each other about whether or not an intervention needed to be staged over Nobu and his continuing penguin-facts-in-the-group-chat fixation proved to be good medicine, and Shoma felt himself relaxing a little, though his eyes still occasionally flicked up to the entrance as he kept an instinctive lookout for any sign of Yuzuru joining them. Keiji – perhaps feeling guilty for ambushing him with deep conversation before breakfast – kept his head down and didn’t even so much as raise an eyebrow, and fortunately for Shoma everyone else was too distracted with their conversation to notice his twitchiness. Shoma chose not to linger too long; he listened vaguely to the conversation and nibbled at his breakfast, and as soon as he got the opportunity he quietly slipped away from the table and back out into the lobby. He had expected an inquisition, or some knowing remark from Keiji at the very least, but as it happened everyone was fully occupied with arguing over the last three pancakes at the buffet, oblivious to the fact Shoma hadn’t joined the fight.

The lobby was busy and bright, and Shoma winced at the heady mix of energies bounding about the space – Foundation powers were mingling in with the same static-edged intensity Shoma had felt from the crowds the previous day, and it was a headache to try and sift through the noise. Shoma paused, taking a second to close his eyes and reach out for the familiar sensation of Yuzuru’s lightning; he was close and quiet, subdued but not as thready as he had been, and Shoma nodded slightly to himself, blowing out a breath and deciding to seek him out. He was getting better at judging the distance between them from the way the thunder felt as it rattled through his bones, and better still at reading Yuzuru’s moods from how much lightning danced amongst the clouds. Yuzuru too seemed to have found a way of recognising when Shoma was reaching out on purpose and when his power had simply gotten loose and sought him out of its own accord, so he knew he would be looking out for him, knew he had already given himself away as wanting his company. Unlike everyone else, Yuzuru wouldn’t demand answers or deep conversations from him: he was wilier than that. He would ply Shoma with sweetness, quick-witted banter and affection given freely, before winding the conversation up and over and around and back on itself, drawing Shoma’s words out slowly and with gentle patience, slipping past his guards to take the answers he wanted only when Shoma had stopped minding about giving them.

He spotted Yuzuru over towards the main entrance, standing with his back to the blue-green glass, turned away from the melee outside deliberately, protectively almost; Tracy, Brian and one of the representatives from the Japanese ministry were all standing with him, the four of them staring down at the papers in Brian’s hand and talking in hushed voices. Tracy and Yuzuru kept exchanging secret looks when the other two weren’t paying attention, silently conspiring on some point or another with sparkling eyes and secret smiles, Yuzuru working hard to stay still and not laugh when Tracy pulled a face at him. After a few more exchanges, he bobbed his head enthusiastically, waved a hand to punctuate whatever point he was making, then turned to walk over to an official who was waiting for him at the opposite side of the lobby. Shoma began to move towards him without really making the conscious decision, pulled in by instinct and craving Yuzuru’s ability to dispel the words and energies of others by force of will, but before Shoma had made it more than half way, some movement beyond the window caught his eye. It was hard to make out the source of the commotion, but the whole crowd gathered outside had suddenly come alive, turning into a whirling mass as everyone turned and pushed, trying to get a better view of who had shoved who and attempting to drag themselves away from whatever was happening for fear of being sucked into the mess. The fluctuating, undulating lines of people strained against the barriers and, for a moment, no one was really paying attention to what they were doing. One of the people stationed at the far barrier stumbled as it tottered forwards, knocking into them, and another man with a walkie-talkie clamped to his ear quickly moved across to help, briefly turning his back to the crowd. It was all the opening the mass of people needed to spill out of their carefully-constructed limits and dangerously close to the windows.

All at once, everything began to move too fast and too slow; Shoma could see what was about to happen, but the signals didn’t move to his brain properly, and by the time he was processing what he was looking at it was already too late, the moment gone. He saw the events immediately before and immediately after in great clarity, but the ruckus in the middle was drowned out by the sound of breaking glass and the panicked yells of hotel staff and confused onlookers. A barrier fell, a window broke and everyone suddenly seemed desperate to get away, though no one could agree on a direction. Everyone’s plans of action seemed at odds with everyone else’s – lost, bewildered people stumbled backwards into each other being forced through the fresh, gaping hole in the hotel’s front window by the confusion. Shoma heard his own voice – not loud but thready and full of feeling – saying Yuzuru’s name, but there was a dissonance between himself and the sound, between himself and the whole scene. He moved, but not as quickly as he wanted to, and everyone around him was moving too, making the distance between himself and Yuzuru seem almost impossible to cross. The officials’ scramble to right the barriers only seemed to be making things worse, causing those previously stunned still to push back and jostle, whilst some less-scrupulous members of the press saw ratings gold and egged it all on, descending hungrily on the broken window with their cameras.

Yuzuru was briefly hidden from Shoma’s view by a confusion of security and elbows, and when the mess cleared a little Shoma realised he was on the ground, carelessly thrown aside by a member of hotel staff who hadn’t realised he wasn’t simply another member of the crowd.  
‘Yuzu,’ Shoma called, moving through the melee and letting out a soft huff when someone collided with him from behind, knocking him down to his knees. He winced as a shard of glass dug into his hand, but he bit the pain back, pushing his body up from the floor and trying to see through the legs of those crowded around him to where Yuzuru had been. He could just make out the slight smudge of him, on the ground close by the windows, loose-limbed and ragged and still not looking up. There was no lightning: for a moment Shoma felt painfully empty, almost numb, and the panic quickly rose in him, his heart making its way up to his throat. ‘ _Yuzu!_ ’ he cried out again, this time with just a little more force as he scrambled to his feet – though his voice was quieter than the unfolding confusion all around them, this time Shoma knew Yuzuru had heard him, because to his immense relief he felt a prickle of lightning zigzagging its way across his skin in an apologetic rush. He pushed through the mess, stumbling slightly every time someone else brushed past him and slipping unnoticed behind the frantic officials talking animatedly into their headsets. There was a wall of bodies between him and Yuzuru, and the frustration built up in him, making him feel edgy and frantic, his expression pinched and his ribcage tight. ‘Enough,’ he said desperately, his teeth gritted as he tried and failed to get someone three times his height to acknowledge the fact they were crushing him into the back of the line of hotel security who were trying to block the media from getting too clear of a view of the disarray. ‘Stop, _please_ ,’ Shoma breathed, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up to his face out of frustration. He stood there a moment, trying to focus in and block out the noise – and then suddenly he realised how quiet it had gone. He blinked his eyes open, looking around him in amazement; his breathing was still harsh and he felt like his whole body was vibrating, shaken with worry, but around him everything was suspended, frozen in time. Though the words had come out as little more than a whisper, Shoma realised his power had threaded its way inside them, had taken charge for him and stopped the chaos in its tracks. He stared, wide-eyed, around him, forgetting himself for a moment as he pivoted slowly on his heel, taking in the whole circle of the space in bewilderment, realising the freeze even reached outside. And then, with a gasp, Shoma remembered. ‘Yuzu,’ he whispered under his breath.

Shoma spun back around, ducking and weaving his way through the frozen figures to where he’d seen him last. Thankfully, he wasn’t hard to find: he was the only other source of movement in the whole of the lobby, slowly righting himself and examining the still-life in front of him with raised eyebrows, smiling a smile which was somewhere between shaken and amused. ‘Yuzu!’ Yuzuru looked up, his smile widening slightly, and Shoma slipped between a police officer and a wide-eyed member of the public who was about to be rounded up, ducking beneath the officer’s outstretched arm and half-throwing himself onto the floor. ‘You’re ok,’ Shoma let out as he landed, crawling closer, and Yuzuru nodded somewhat dazedly.  
‘Yeah. Or…I think so. That came out of nowhere,’ he huffed, shaking his head and pushing his hair back from his face with a sigh. Shoma’s eyes widened as he caught the scattering of red marks along Yuzuru’s skin.  
‘You’re bleeding,’ he breathed, soft and anxious as he reached out instinctively towards one of the cuts on Yuzuru’s forehead, and Yuzuru frowned slightly back at him.  
‘So are you,’ he replied, catching Shoma’s hand before he could touch him and lightly running his finger over the cut there with concern. He tugged on Shoma’s hand, caring but firm, and Shoma shuffled just a little closer, allowing Yuzuru to take his hand in both of his. For a moment he completely forgot his fear, his panic, the madness which had just broken out – because Yuzuru’s healing power was sweet and cool and dewy, the lightning gentled into something more like a spring tide, slow but still all force. It caught him off guard, made him forget where he was and only see Yuzuru, whose healing found its way inside in a heartbeat, tending to Shoma’s cut and then getting loose through his veins, making it easier for him to breath. Shoma closed his eyes for just a moment, letting himself feel the relief.

When he opened his eyes again, Yuzuru was looking at him with an open, caring gaze, his lips pale and curved into the faintest of smiles. ‘Better?’ he asked gently, leaning in to brush Shoma’s cheek with his knuckles, and Shoma nodded dumbly, staring into Yuzuru’s face with something close to disbelief. Because he was dishevelled and ragged, but he was still there, still Yuzuru, still somehow in one piece – his brown eyes so warm, so kind, his touch full of electricity. His was a pretty, devastating face; soft in the morning light, open and unguarded as he offered Shoma a calm sort of totality few ever got to see from him, every contradictory side of him on display at once. Defiance. Worry. Sweetness. Ridiculous courage. Shoma reached up slowly, instinctively, swallowing down the lump in his throat as he touched a finger to the cut by Yuzuru’s eyebrow. His forehead furrowed into the smallest of frowns when Yuzuru winced; he had a series of cuts along his jawline too, and they made his skin look unnaturally pale in comparison. Shoma felt the sting of them like the cuts were his own. He cupped Yuzuru’s cheek in his hand, his breath catching a little as Yuzuru leant into the touch with a soft sigh; his head suddenly drooped as he closed his eyes, allowing himself the moment of honest vulnerability and exhaustion and surrendering himself to Shoma’s touch. Shoma felt his power take control at once, and along the line where Shoma’s palm touched Yuzuru’s skin there was a golden glow. Shoma watched in vague wonder as his healing power settled across Yuzuru’s features; it was like watching the sunrise after staying up all night, like birdsong and pale clouds and smudges of seabirds dancing across a lapping sea, every colour Yuzuru was filtering back into him, slow, gentle and beautiful. And Shoma felt the low, proud swell of realisation that some of that colour was purely his – indelible and golden, just like the lightning tracks which Yuzuru had left on his skin. Yuzuru opened his eyes again and leant forwards dozily, resting their foreheads together and drawing in a ragged breath that was almost a laugh, shy and sweet. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, and Shoma smiled, somewhat dazed.  
‘What else was I gonna do? Tell you to find a first aid kit?’ he managed, the words dry but his voice all affection, and Yuzuru let out another small, harsh-breathed laugh, his hand coming up to Shoma’s neck and his thumb brushing the skin there fondly.  
‘I like your healing power: it is honeyed and thick. Something settled. Something so opposite to me.’ He sat up just a little, pressing a kiss to Shoma’s forehead before resting forwards once again. 

The two of them stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch their breath and calm their nerves, then slowly Yuzuru sat back, pushing himself to sit up straight and looking around at the frozen scene. ‘This is Shoma Magic, right?’ he said absently, before glancing back at Shoma with a wonky smile, eyes glittering. ‘I know because it is so whole. Raw and boundless…but firm somehow.’ He tilted his head to one side and scrunched up his face as he studied an anxious-looking photographer over Shoma’s shoulder, and Shoma glanced back to look too; the man was caught mid-leap towards the window as his camera fell through the hole without him, and despite everything it was almost comical. Shoma groaned.  
‘I hope you’re not expecting me to undo this, because with my power? We could end up here all week. I’m so spent I could probably fall asleep right here and it wouldn’t go back, honestly,’ he winced, looking back at Yuzuru with a shy, mildly embarrassed smile. ‘That was intense – and my power’s reaction to intense is kind of…more intensity. It’s like a stubborn standoff in my head…and I’m useless at backing down.’ He was blushing, and Yuzuru’s smile turned soft and sympathetic as he reached out to give Shoma’s hand a squeeze.  
‘It’s too early to be dealing with this much crazy, huh?’ he said kindly, glancing over at the broken window with a frown. ‘It was strange though, right? Like a really weird set of coincidences, don’t you think? To make so much happen so quickly. I didn’t feel it coming from anyone’s energy at all.’ Shoma looked away.  
‘I don’t know…it was just a blur to me, really. I just heard breaking glass…and then I couldn’t sense you for a second over the noise,’ he murmured, biting his lip, and Yuzuru looked back at him, shuffling a little closer, his eyes intent and concerned as he studied Shoma’s face. ‘Nothing’s ever drowned you out before, so…’ Shoma gestured vaguely with one hand, closing his eyes, and he felt Yuzuru reach across to squeeze his other hand, heard him let out a soft sound of understanding. His fingers touching tenderly at Shoma’s jawline, coaxing him to open his eyes, and he leant in and pressed a brief, gentle kiss to his temple. Shoma was grateful that he didn’t try to dismiss the whole thing – that he didn’t feel the need to play down the moment of pure terror he had felt when Yuzuru’s lightning had gotten lost in the melee. He just acknowledged it was real – that it mattered to Shoma and that it was not something which could be lessened.

The peace held a moment longer between them; Yuzuru moved a hand to Shoma’s power mark in the now-familiar ritual of silent reassurance, and Shoma watched with a desolate smile, allowing Yuzuru to trace the lines over and over. Curiously, this time they seemed to glow at Yuzuru’s touch, tiny sparks falling away and dissolving into Shoma’s skin, and Shoma blinked, surprised for a moment. The sensation created a strange sense of calm in him, and when he looked up into Yuzuru’s face he found him watching with open wonder in his eyes. He looked up slowly, meeting Shoma’s gaze and offering him the smallest of smiles.  
‘I think that means we will be ok, Shoma,’ he said, scrunching up his face for a moment, his smile widening before he leant in to press another kiss to the side of Shoma’s face. But as he withdrew so did the feeling, and Shoma found himself suddenly cold, though the skin of his power mark still burned with electricity. When Shoma glanced up he saw that the mask of pleasant professionalism has slipped back into place across Yuzuru’s features – the only giveaway to the frail, fractured person who had leant gratefully into Shoma’s touch just a few moments before was in his energy, still somewhat unravelled at its edges, the lightning falling off him in spirals as opposed to zigzagging bolts. It was with dark, calm eyes that Yuzuru looked around as he took a moment to centre himself; Shoma could sense the way Yuzuru slowly, carefully put his pieces back together, and it was good to feel the pleasant crackle of his power as he brought it to the surface. And then, with great precision, Yuzuru clicked his fingers; sharp and deliberate and undercut with power.

As time finally crashed through with a rush of air, Shoma winced against the noise, and Yuzuru curled protectively close, helping him hold himself in. Shoma’s power flared at the sudden noise of it all, and he tried to tamp it down, huddling against Yuzuru’s shoulder and letting his body muffle the impact of the bustle all around them. Yuzuru’s lightning instantly ordered his messy edges without Shoma having to ask – it was a welcome balm and a dangerous spark at the same time, stoking a fire in Shoma and making his power rise to the surface of his skin in a rush before channelling it and cooling its fervour, turning it into something more defined. The effect was unexpected: gold and white light which wrapped around their joined hands in knots before suddenly growing brighter and reaching up and over them, tracing along their outlines. The energy transformed into a hazy shield, a misty glow that blanketed them and somehow drowned out the commotion all around. Shoma looked at Yuzuru uncertainly, and Yuzuru simply shrugged, examining the curious solution their powers had come together to devise and narrowing his eyes at it just a little as he took it in. ‘Maybe…our Warrior and Healer powers combined?’ he ventured. ‘With our emotions on edge, your power wanted to soothe and mine to defend, so…together they are doing both, I think.’ He tipped his head to one side thoughtfully. ‘We are in our own time here, maybe: set apart. Your power wanted to stop time again…but my power wanted something a little more focused. So it took some of your excess energy and chose to shape it: to keep us apart from the chaos. Like a pocket of time that is only ours – energy bent to keep our energy in and everyone else’s out.’ He shrugged again, tugging Shoma by the hand slightly so he scrambled to sit beside him. The scene around them was beginning to calm down, though it was the warmth of Yuzuru pressed close beside him that smoothed Shoma’s ragged nerves the most. ‘Our powers don’t follow categories, which really makes us…simply manipulators of energy, ultimately. We are like…the core of what it is to have power. Energy and direction: the two halves of the root of power’s equation, you know? So…that makes it possible for our powers to do as they please, without the restriction of categories and rules,’ Yuzuru murmured quietly by Shoma’s ear. Shoma nodded vaguely, only half-taking in the theory, and Yuzuru looked back around them, his thumb absently rubbing the back of Shoma’s hand. ‘We should try to pull it back; things are almost cleared up already and people are starting to look.’ He was about to say something else when suddenly he tensed, sucking in a sharp breath, and Shoma looked up into his face questioningly. ‘I think it might be time to get our story straight, Sho,’ Yuzuru said through gritted teeth, biting his lip and shooting a definitely-not-innocent smile in the direction of the other side of the lobby.  
‘Huh?’ Shoma frowned, and Yuzuru nodded his head to where he was looking. As Shoma turned he winced slightly, spotting Brian and Tracy immediately. They had stilled in their frantic march to find Yuzuru and were now stopped in their tracks, arms folded as they exchanged low words with each other, eyebrows arched as their gazes lingered on Shoma and Yuzuru, their expressions mildly perturbed yet still strangely accusatory somehow. Shoma dropped his forehead to Yuzuru’s shoulder with a whimper. ‘You’re doing all the talking,’ he muttered, shoving him slightly, and Yuzuru let out a high, silly laugh, his head thrown back as he elbowed Shoma in return.  
‘No change there then, huh?’ he sighed. ‘Come on, we’d better go to them.’ He pushed himself up and offered Shoma his hand, and the action seemed to finally dispel the haze of light around them, dissolving it off into the air in a golden mist. Shoma’s nerves were still somewhat ropey, but Yuzuru kept a firm hold of his hand, applying just enough of his power to be a steady weight on Shoma’s own; it was keeping him together, stopping his power acting out and holding him upright, but he still looked around at the mess of people involved in attempting to restore the lobby to some sort of order with wide, nervous eyes, his muscles tense and his awareness of every small sound heightened, feeling somewhat dizzy. Yuzuru gave his hand an understanding squeeze.

‘Alright: who did what and how much of it was caught by the cameras?’ Brian asked as they approached, despair and faint amusement in his eyes, and Yuzuru let out a sound of petulant protest as he came to an abrupt halt, sending Shoma crashing into his back.  
‘And I’m happy you’re alive too, huh,’ Yuzuru pouted, eyes sparkling impishly, and Tracy shook her head, throwing her hands up despairingly and rolling her eyes.  
‘Would both of you give it a rest, please?’ she chided through a soft laugh. ‘What Brian _means_ is: are you two boys ok? Everyone made it out in one piece: no cuts, bumps, bruises, problems we should absolutely be aware of no matter what you might think to the contrary?’ she asked, her eyes sparkling with an edgy humour as she regarded Yuzuru with deep fondness and concern.  
‘We’re fine. Promise,’ Yuzuru said quickly, glancing at Shoma. ‘Mostly fine,’ he corrected, offering Tracy a small smile and a one-shouldered shrug. ‘We got cut by the glass but we fixed it.’ He looked at Brian then, wincing slightly. ‘I don’t know about the cameras, though – they might have seen…more of it than they should.’ Brian smiled at him, kind and a little rueful as he nodded slowly, blowing out a breath.  
‘Ok. It’s fine: as long as you’re alright, I’m not too worried about the free show, I just want to know how much explaining I’m going to be doing is all.’ He sighed, his eyes twinkling as he looked Yuzuru up and down. ‘Will there ever come a day where you don’t keep me on my toes, hmm?’ he asked and Yuzuru’s smile turned mischievous as he wrinkled his nose.  
‘Probably not?’ he ventured sheepishly. Brian chuckled.  
‘I was afraid you’d say that,’ he replied with a roll of his eyes. Tracy nudged him lightly before looking back at Yuzuru with a fond smile, eyes narrowed just a little.  
‘In fairness, this one seems like a fluke of timing rather than your usual reckless streak, so…there’s that, at least,’ she said.

One of the officials from the summit’s organising committee appeared at Brian’s shoulder then, muttering something in his ear which he nodded to, offering them a tight, polite smile in return.  
‘Absolutely, that sounds like a good plan. Once the press has been beaten back a bit I’ll send one of my Healers down to help with the clear-up too; I’m sure Jason will volunteer anyway, knowing him.’ The official nodded, smiling politely then indicating she was hearing something in her earpiece that she needed to tend to and stepping away. Brian turned back to Yuzuru and Shoma, looking between them thoughtfully. ‘Alright, Trouble and More Trouble – the hotel are opening up the VIP lounge for us to use as HQ for a while whilst this nonsense dies down. And since everyone is ok, I think perhaps it might be time for a word with you both…?’ Shoma hid slightly behind Yuzuru, who pulled a face at Brian, rolling his eyes.  
‘So dramatic,’ he huffed, and Brian smiled, amused.  
‘From the Drama Magnet himself,’ he said with a shake of his head, patting Yuzuru on the shoulder and nodding towards the other end of the lobby. ‘Come on, this way.’  
‘Wait: am I Trouble or More Trouble?’ Yuzuru asked as they turned, and Brian chuckled warmly.  
‘Oh, I think I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.’

The VIP lounge was really just a tiny room with a selection of chairs, a television and a concierge desk, but it was pleasantly peaceful all the same, and the cool, air-conditioned air was welcome relief on Shoma’s still-burning skin. Brian and Tracy immediately descended on the television as they came in; it was showing a 24-hour rolling-news channel which had already made the hotel lobby scene its top story and, as well as the usual, grainy mobile phone footage, a few professional news teams had also caught different angles of the unfortunate circus. To Shoma’s dismay there were endless slow-motion replays of Yuzuru falling and glass breaking and people spilling everywhere, and even though it hadn’t been more than five minutes since everything had unfolded, the determined-faced newsreader was already talking to some expert or other via video-link, her questions seeming to centre mostly on the one piece of footage which caught the briefest glimpse of Shoma and Yuzuru huddling beneath the blanket of their powers and the apparent time-jump which every camera angle had in common. As Brian and Tracy watched and muttered, Shoma and Yuzuru sat side by side on the back of one of the sofas a little distance away, swinging their legs like two naughty schoolchildren waiting to be told off; Yuzuru was watching the footage somewhat absently, his head on one side in thought, but Shoma preferred not to look, turning his gaze down to the floor and trying desperately to quiet the scattered thoughts spinning round in his head. Yuzuru kicked his ankle and he looked up at him, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile when Yuzuru pulled a face. Shoma kicked him back, rolled his eyes and looked away.

‘Well…that was certainly…different,’ Tracy said at last, turning to look at the two of them thoughtfully, and Shoma shifted uncomfortably, glancing up at Yuzuru, who shot him a small, vaguely amused smile before looking back at Tracy and Brian with a shrug.  
‘I guess,’ he said, feigning disinterest, and Brian narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘Yuzu,’ he said carefully and Yuzuru pursed his lips, amused and chagrined at the same time.  
‘I do stuff other people can’t all the time; it’s only news when the cameras see it,’ he said, a slight childish edge to his tone that Brian and Tracy both smiled at.  
‘You’re a smart mouth, you know that?’ Tracy sighed.  
‘As long as the “smart” is in there I’m fine with it,’ Yuzuru smiled back. Brian rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly and letting out a sigh.  
‘Alright: I’m going to need to know who did what, I’m going to need to know why and I’m going to need some sort of explanation for just how much power it all must’ve taken, please,’ he said, before glancing at Shoma and narrowing his eyes slightly. ‘Shoma? You fancy being more cooperative then Yuzu?’ he tried, somewhere between hopeful and amused, and Shoma pursed his lips, shaking his head slightly. Brian let out a laughing groan. ‘Look, you both know you can tell me anything and it won’t leave this room: no judgement, no repercussions, just…tell me what you’re dealing with so I can try and see if there’s some way we can figure it all out and dismiss it in the press more easily, ok?’ Shoma winced and Yuzuru straightened a little, leaning into Shoma’s side. It was protective and reassuring, and though Shoma was still holding his breath, he relaxed just slightly against him.  
‘Sho’s power is strong, that’s all,’ Yuzuru put in firmly, glancing at Tracy. ‘And you know sometimes it just gets sort of…triggered, right? Well that’s how it went. The glass broke and his power wanted time to stop. So it did. Shoma didn’t really get much choice. And it worked…so…it’s fine.’ He glanced at Brian, rolling his eyes. ‘But…I guess…maybe everything else is…my fault? Kind of?’  
‘Everything?’ Brian asked carefully, giving Yuzuru a piercing look, and Yuzuru smiled lopsidedly with a short, sharp and decisive nod.  
‘Yeah. I mean…Shoma healed me, I healed Shoma…then I put time back…’  
‘And…?’ Tracy said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at Yuzuru, and he faltered for the first time, catching his bottom lip between his teeth guiltily.  
‘And…my power is different around Shoma…’ he said slowly. Shoma glanced at him, intrigued as to how he was going to avoid lying whilst also not giving Tracy and Brian the whole truth, and Yuzuru closed one eye, tipping his head back and forth like he was doing a complicated sum before nodding to himself. ‘Shoma is very strong. For me. To sense, I mean. And I sense his power. Like…a lot…because we’re close, so it’s something clearer.’ He looked at Tracy, eyebrows raised hopefully. ‘It makes my powers different; how I use energy is different. I can’t always say how it will go.’ He shrugged again, pulling a face. ‘I can’t explain what I don’t really understand, you know,’ he huffed and Tracy laughed slightly, shaking her head and glancing at Brian.  
‘Did you believe a word of that?’ she asked him tiredly. Brian shrugged, wry and fond and only a little despairing.  
‘I don’t know what I believe any longer – maybe the part about him not understanding? We’ll see,’ he said with a small shake of his head, looking over at Yuzuru with a kind smile. ‘It’ll do for now, since this wasn’t actually anything to do with you, for a change.’ He glanced down at his phone and winced, and Shoma could see the screen was filled with a million notifications – it made him wonder what he’d turn his own phone on to, because once his family saw all the press coverage they would no doubt be relentless with their questions. ‘I’d better go and do some damage control,’ Brian muttered, shaking his head and starting to type out a message before glancing back at Yuzuru again. ‘Are you still ok to do everything on the schedule for today? Because…I could understand if it was too much? And that goes for you too, Shoma: no pressure here,’ he said, looking between them with eyebrows raised. Yuzuru sighed deeply.  
‘I’m fine. I mean…I have to be, right? If we change the schedule then we set the whole summit back – and then they’ll just make us stay longer. I don’t want that at all – I’m tired and I just want to get back to the Foundation to rest properly.’ In that moment he did sound worryingly exhausted, tired enough to make Shoma look up at him in mild concern; Yuzuru offered him a small smile in reply and Shoma smiled back slightly, giving a small nod before glancing over at Brian.  
‘Same. What he said,’ he told him quietly, and Brian offered him a warm, vaguely amused smile.  
‘You should get a sign to hold up with that on, Shoma. I suspect it might come in handy the way you two are going,’ he said with a wink. Shoma let out a shy laugh, bobbing his head slightly and glancing down at his feet.

As Brian left to go and deal with the press, Tracy hovered, staring at the two of them in that knowing way of hers that made Shoma feel like he had no place to hide. She seemed to see the edge of panic in Shoma’s face, and she offered him a soft smile before looking between him and Yuzuru and folding her arms.  
‘I know there is more to this – because people’s powers don’t just spontaneously decide to glow white and gold and make shields. Not even yours, Yuzuru,’ she said, her eyes alight with kindness and care. ‘But lucky for you I should go and help out Brian in trying to explain this all away…and maybe hunt down where everyone else has got to and reassure them this is all under control,’ she added. ‘So…take as long as you need to regroup and I’ll come get you when it’s time to get on the coach, ok?’ Yuzuru nodded and she smiled at him. ‘Ok. Be good whilst I’m gone? No death defying stunts, magic tricks or broken glass – at least for a couple of hours, please?’ she sighed, put-upon but fond, and Yuzuru smiled, nodding firmly.  
‘Of course. Promise.’  
‘Good.’ Tracy glanced at Shoma then, raising an eyebrow. ‘And Shoma? If you think he’s about to go supernova on us? Please work that magic of yours on him and calm him down: if anyone can, I’m sure it’s you.’ 

For a few moments after Tracy left, Shoma and Yuzuru sat in silence, pointedly ignoring the television screen and listening to the sound of each other’s breathing; Yuzuru was picking at a thread in his jacket, and Shoma could feel clouds gathering at his edges. He wasn’t as fine as he said he was, Shoma knew – but Shoma also knew he wasn’t going to let Tracy know this, wasn’t going to risk her and Brian insisting he put off attending the rest of the meetings or pulling him out of the main conference of the summit. Tentatively Shoma reached out, placing his hand over Yuzuru’s where it rested on the back of the sofa and dragging his thumb lightly across the skin – a gesture he knew Yuzuru would recognise as his way of saying “I understand”. After a second Yuzuru turned his gaze to him, but Shoma kept his eyes down, unblinking and contemplative – he still felt the remnants of those knots of light which had wrapped so tightly around their hands before, remembered how connected he’d felt, not just to himself and his own power, but also to Yuzuru and his. He’d felt more alive than he knew it was possible to be. It was terrifying and it made him shiver, blinking slowly before cautiously looking up into Yuzuru’s face.  
‘I’m sorry,’ Yuzuru whispered into the quiet, and Shoma frowned, his lips parting slightly as he took in a small, sharp breath like he’d been pinched.  
‘What have you got to be sorry for?’ Yuzuru’s smile was wan and sad as he glanced down with a small shake of his head, his brow furrowing into a brief frown.  
‘I scare you. Too much.’ Shoma shook his head, squeezing Yuzuru’s hand so he looked back into his eyes.  
‘You don’t scare me,’ he murmured, lifting one shoulder in a shrug and letting out a sad, wet laugh from the back of his throat. ‘The world scares me,’ he admitted then, blowing out a breath and turning his eyes up to the ceiling. Yuzuru swallowed, nodding slightly and touching a finger to Shoma’s chin, and when Shoma looked back at him he saw the broken, resigned smile had returned to his lips.  
‘I belong to the world, though, Shoma,’ Yuzuru whispered, helpless and apologetic, and Shoma closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath.  
‘No. It just thinks you belong to it,’ he corrected, opening his eyes to offer Yuzuru a watery smile. ‘I think that’s the part that scares me most of all.’ Yuzuru simply looked at him for a beat – his eyes so darkly intense Shoma couldn’t look away, some profound sort of understanding in them that saw him to his very core and accepted everything he felt, even though it was causing him pain. And then, silently, Yuzuru leant in, kissing Shoma’s forehead and resting their heads together with a sigh. Shoma squeezed his eyes tightly shut and drank in the feeling of him, the steady centre and the wild edges, the bergamot and jasmine, the lightning and the flood. The desperately sad and the fiercely determined. Everything he was wrapped around Shoma, blanketing him and keeping him safe from the reality of what he realised was now not just a possibility, but something which would definitely happen. Change. Always change. Yuzuru shifted, pulling him into his arms and hugging him tightly, dropping another kiss to the top of his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again into Shoma’s hair, and this time Shoma chose not to correct him.

The rest of the day was – mercifully – as dreary and monotonous as had been advertised; Shoma was relieved by the dull tedium of it all, allowing himself to retreat inside it and zoning out for long chunks of time. Yuzuru didn’t stay with him the way he had at past events, and Shoma chose to pretend the space he put between them was entirely down to the demands being placed on him by the schedule, his role in speeches and meetings meaning he was never still for long. But then the main body of the summit rolled along – a seemingly endless debate and discussion session between the suits that barely acknowledged the Foundation’s presence – and Yuzuru sat with Javier, his eyes down and his expression solemn. And Shoma knew then that Yuzuru was bracing himself for the impact he had realised, perhaps only a little later than Shoma, was certainly coming. He didn’t blame him for wanting the space and the time to regroup; he needed it too, after all. He only wished Yuzuru would give him something, some small look or fragment of a smile. If nothing else Shoma simply wished Yuzuru would give him something to help him out; Kazuki was good company – earnest and kind and sweetly oblivious – but Keiji and Satoko were sitting close by, and it was trying to keep plying them with sleepy “Everything Is Fine I Swear” smiles.

At some point in the bustle of formality and flashbulbs that was the – painfully late – end to a day full of important-but-clueless people talking themselves in circles, Shoma lost track of Yuzuru entirely, and he was sitting on his own towards the back of the bus, staring down at his phone unawares, when Yuzuru’s presence forcefully invaded his consciousness once more. Preoccupied with trying to convince his parents they had nothing to worry about despite what they might have seen on the news and attempting to get Itsuki to stop pestering him about topics he didn’t want to deal with, Shoma had absently pushed the feeling back – forgetting, for a moment, that this was Yuzuru, and that force would always be met with force. A moment later, a thin, wiry body crashed against his side with a total lack of grace or reservation, and Shoma jumped, turning to look over at Yuzuru just in time for him to drop his head onto his shoulder with a soft huff of breath. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, closing his eyes and sinking against Shoma gratefully, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile, resting his head on top of Yuzuru’s with a small hum.  
‘Stop apologising. I get it.’ He sighed. ‘It kind of sucks, honestly. Because I always get it: I can’t even be mad at you.’ Yuzuru let out a humourless laugh.  
‘I know that feeling,’ he said quietly, burrowing a little closer into Shoma’s side with a childish pout. ‘I think I preferred it when you kept telling me you hated me.’  
‘That was yesterday morning, Yuzu,’ Shoma said with a wry smile, nudging him just slightly. ‘That was, like…a lifetime ago.’  
‘Yeah,’ Yuzuru sighed, heavy and half-asleep. ‘It really was, wasn’t it?’

They spent the drive back in surprisingly comfortable silence; there was the low murmur of other people’s chatter all around them and the air on the coach was just that little bit too stuffy, but they slumped against each other all the same, Shoma tapping away at a game on his phone whilst Yuzuru listened to his music, his eyes closed but his lips moving just slightly along with the words. In their own worlds but somehow still together; it was so familiar, so safe, everything Shoma didn’t fear about what was between them, and he tried to block out the sound of Itsuki’s bratty whine in the back of his head, reminding him that every second was just another thing to lose. As if summoned up by Shoma’s wandering thoughts, a message popped up from Itsuki as the coach pulled up in front of the hotel – a simple “Still torturing yourself?” that was as annoying as it was sweetly concerned, and Shoma smiled a little, rolling his eyes as he sent back a “Yes” and then switching off the phone before Itsuki could start lecturing him again.  
‘Why do little brothers have opinions?’ he asked Yuzuru, who paused in the middle of wrapping up his headphones, tipping his head to one side and offering Shoma a sweet, tired smile.  
‘Because we care?’ he suggested, shrugging. ‘And because it’s good to be able to get in an “I told you so” later,’ he added. Shoma laughed softly, nodding and letting out a heavy sigh.  
‘Yeah…that one sounds more like Itsuki, honestly.’ Yuzuru’s phone buzzed then, and he glanced down at it for a moment, arching an eyebrow before looking up at Shoma with mild amusement.  
‘I’ve got to tell you to pull yourself together and turn your phone back on, apparently,’ he said, showing Shoma the message he’d just received from Itsuki and laughing when he groaned.  
‘I’m never telling him anything ever again.’  
‘Liar: you’d be lost without him,’ Yuzuru said with a shrug, starting to tap out his reply. ‘But just for you I’ll tell him to be quiet and go to bed. And remind him he has school in the morning – just to make sure I properly sound like my mum.’ Shoma laughed.  
‘Your sacrifice is appreciated.’  
‘It better be,’ Yuzuru smirked.

As everyone trooped back into the lobby, Shoma and Yuzuru pulled out in front of the group, falling into step with each other easily; Yuzuru was mostly himself again now that the media had gone home, and it made Shoma relax in kind to see the final traces of the PR sensation fall away. reminding him how much of himself he was allowed to be now he was back in the sanctuary Yuzuru’s company. It was late, and the lobby was deserted but for the two reception staff manning the desk, who smiled politely at them in greeting as they passed; Shoma tried to squint at the clock behind them, but the numbers were blurry to him and, not looking where he was going, he half-stumbled into Yuzuru, tripping over his own feet and lolloping to one side with a huff. ‘Time-check going well, huh?’ Yuzuru teased as he caught Shoma’s arm and steadied him. ‘It’s almost midnight, Sleepy,’ he supplied, laughing when Shoma grunted by way of a thank you.

Both of them collapsed into the lift, Shoma curling himself into the opposite corner to Yuzuru and closing his eyes. ‘You should know…Brian looked into the incident this morning,’ Yuzuru said suddenly into the quiet, his voice oddly tight, and Shoma lifted his head, blinking his eyes open and frowning across at him, perplexed at the sudden shift in his manner.  
‘I thought it was just a freak thing?’ Yuzuru nodded vaguely, looking down and worrying at his lip; he looked antsy all of a sudden, his usual fidgeting taking on an agitated edge and his face furrowed with a mixture of guilt and frustration. He gazed at the floor so intently Shoma almost wanted to cross the space between them and touch a finger to his chin, force him to look at him, heal a little of the ragged tiredness from him. But instead Shoma found he was rooted to the spot, his muscles suddenly rigid and his throat tight; his instinct for self-preservation was kicking in, a prickle of awareness in the back of his mind that, though he wanted so badly for Yuzuru to be honest with him, they had promised that they would always give that honesty no matter how sharply it could cut. And Yuzuru could cut him more deeply with a word than a million shards of glass; Shoma wasn’t so sure he wanted that any longer. ‘What is it, Yuzu?’ he ventured, his voice annoyingly uncertain and high, and Yuzuru looked over at him with a sigh.  
‘It’s just…the people who started it – Brian looked at the footage, and it seems like they did it on purpose. Or at least, they planned to cause a scene of some sort,’ Yuzuru explained, glancing down again and pulling a face. ‘He thinks maybe they wanted to get me to use my power – but he’s not sure why, what they’d gain from that.’ He shrugged. ‘The police tracked them down, not that there’s really much they could charge them with. They were let go again and told to stay away from Foundation events but…it’s nothing enforceable. They didn’t do anything wrong just…bumped into a few people in strategic places, you know?’ Yuzuru sighed. ‘But that’s not even the weird part.’ Shoma swallowed, feeling suddenly a little dizzy.  
‘What’s the weird part?’ Yuzuru looked up at him, and Shoma saw a raw sort of fear in his eyes which he had never known there before; it cut him to his core, making his heart shake in his chest, goosebumps forming along his skin.  
‘They traced back to the Alliance, Sho,’ Yuzuru whispered. Shoma stared at him for a beat and then shook his head, stubborn and defiant.  
‘So? So what if they…’ He blew out a breath, looking determinedly away and gazing at the floor indicator like his life depended on it. ‘That doesn’t mean anything, Yuzu.’ Yuzuru sighed again; it was the closest to defeated Shoma had ever heard him and he didn’t like it, wanted to shut it away and never acknowledge it again. Suddenly it felt like there was a cavern opening up between them – a dissonance and a disconnect he hadn’t even felt when he’d tried to shut Yuzuru’s power out entirely, like they were both slipping, gravity pulling them in different directions for the first time since they’d met.  
‘Shoma…the Alliance sent Brian an invitation. Before it had even been announced that the guys had been caught. Like they knew…like maybe they told these guys to do it just so it could give them this opening to reach out.’ Shoma looked across at him with wide, nervous eyes.  
‘Reach out for what, Yuzu?’ he asked, trying to keep the fracture from his voice and failing, and Yuzuru shot him a steady look, a plea in his eyes for Shoma to not make him say it that Shoma wilfully ignored.  
‘Sho,’ Yuzuru said, the sound coming out like it had been punched out of him, like it ached in the pit of his stomach. Shoma never wanted to hear Yuzuru say his name like that again. ‘Shoma, you know what; they want what everyone else wants – cameras and publicity. And me.’  
‘They want you to go to them? For what? To disappear like everyone else?!’ Shoma demanded, losing his battle to keep his cool and grimacing at the cracked sound of his own voice. He never lost it like this – he hardly ever cried, he hardly ever shouted, but Yuzuru drew it out of him like it was nothing, brought every emotion in him to the surface with alarming ease, testing the boundaries of what he could take, his lightning threatening to overload Shoma’s shredded nerves but never quite breaking him completely, always just balancing him on the edge.  
‘No – they don’t-’ Yuzuru brought his hands up to his face and let out a small, frustrated sound from the back of his throat before stepping closer to Shoma. He winced when Shoma flinched, stopping abruptly in his tracks; he looked up, blinking rapidly, but Shoma saw the glassy glaze in his dark eyes. Not that he needed to look at him to know. The hint of tears in his eyes was nothing compared to the full-on thunderstorm going on inside his chest; Shoma could feel it second-hand, stirring up the dust in his own inner world and making his breathing rough and heavy. ‘It’s just…bridge-building, that’s all. Touring their headquarters, looking around, having talks about sharing more information, technology and facilities. It’s PR and playing at negotiations, simple as. They say they think it’s time they worked with us not against us, but that it has to go both ways: they’re proposing collaboration and joint efforts, they want Brian and the Foundation to help bring them into a more official role and they think a press visit will help them.’  
‘But, Yuzu, how can you trust them?! Knowing what you know?’  
‘I don’t, Shoma – but what are we supposed to do? Make accusations? Based on what? They can just dismiss everything we know as coincidence, they can say Brian is being bitter because of the number of staff they have hired out from under him over the years, or that I’m being selfish, not sharing my power with other organisations who want to help. And besides: this could be our only chance to get proof, to see for ourselves some clue of what they might be doing, to try and figure out why they might be behind this and how it happened.’  
‘But there has to be a better way, Yuzu; you’re just walking into the lion’s den – and as usual you’re not even stopping to think what could happen to you…not thinking what could happen _to the rest of us_ if something happened to you. You’re being reckless for the sake of recklessness – caring so much it’s looped around to the point you don’t even care at all.’  
‘But Shoma: Brian will be there too. And the press. What are they going to try with that many eyes, huh?’  
‘Seriously? After what happened today, you want to ask that?’  
‘Sho…’ Yuzuru looked so helpless, so desperately regretful. But Shoma saw the defiance in him too, felt the force in his thunder even through the tumult of sadness inside – and he had to close his eyes, look away. Because he didn’t get it – how Yuzuru could still look at the world and feel like he owed it this much when all the world ever did was throw his compassion and his fierceness back in his face. But it was too much of a part of Yuzuru for him to deny it, too much of what made him special, what made him the person Shoma adored so deeply it ached; to tell him to change it or to try and bury all knowledge of it was to turn away from a fundamental part of his Yuzuru-ness, to stop seeing the whole of him. And Shoma didn’t want to do that. ‘What else do you expect me to do, Sho? This is what my life is – it’s what I do,’ Yuzuru murmured, stepping tentatively closer, and this time Shoma didn’t flinch back. This time Shoma didn’t want to be so much as a centimetre further away from him, not ever: he wanted to feel the solidity of him, to lose himself in the warmth of his skin, the sound of his heartbeat. He crumpled into him the moment he was close enough, with enough force to knock him back a step; he buried his face against his chest and breathed him in, unashamedly desperate as he wrapped his arms around his neck. He felt the relief in his body at the contact, felt it in the way his arms closed around him immediately as he pushed his weight back into Shoma just enough to keep them both steady. Shoma squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, taking in a shuddery breath, and Yuzuru brought a hand up to the back of his head, keeping him closer, his other hand flat and soothingly firm against Shoma’s back.

After a moment Yuzuru he drew back a little, bringing his hands up to cup Shoma’s face in an effort to force him to meet his eyes. ‘Sho,’ he breathed, his thumbs brushing Shoma’s cheeks, and Shoma slowly blinked up at him. His lashes were wet, and he was vaguely aware of the taste of salt at the edges of his lips; Yuzuru brushed away a tear from the corner of his eye. ‘You know as well as I do, Sho: someone has to do it,’ Yuzuru told him, simple, soft and sad, and Shoma managed a pathetic smile, a damp laugh forcing its way out of his throat.  
‘I know,’ he croaked, looking up at the ceiling for a moment and pulling in a steadying breath before he met Yuzuru’s gaze again. ‘I know…I just… I wish it wasn’t you. I wish it wasn’t _always_ you.’ The words were only a whisper, but they hung in the air between them, thick and heavy and stifling; Yuzuru’s hands had dropped to Shoma’s neck, and he looked down at him with quiet understanding, eyes shining with tears he was stubbornly refusing to shed. ‘But it has to be you, right?’ Shoma murmured then, his voice hollow and dry. ‘There’s no one better. I know that.’ He swallowed. ‘I know that more than anyone. And maybe it would bother me less if I didn’t…maybe I’d deal with it better if I didn’t realise just how…how much you are. And how important that is.’ Shoma closed his eyes and tried to memorize the feeling of Yuzuru’s fingers curling against his skin, the sensation of his sinewy frame leaning into him, his thunder thick and his breathing tight. ‘Sometimes I almost wish I didn’t know you….because I know too much to pretend it would be ok to keep you to myself. Even though that’s all I want to do.’

The moment was interrupted by the sound of the lift announcing its arrival on Shoma’s floor, and Shoma lifted his head sharply, staring at the opening doors for a moment before shaking his head, trying to clear the fog from around them and blink the remnants of tears from his eyes. He swallowed, stepping reluctantly away from Yuzuru and moving to leave, but Yuzuru caught his arm, turning him back to face him.  
‘Don’t go.’ Shoma looked at him blankly for a beat, uncomprehending, and Yuzuru swallowed, stepping closer to Shoma again. ‘Don’t go, not like this,’ he repeated in a cracked murmur, touching a hand to Shoma’s cheek. ‘Stay with me; just…let’s be quiet together for a little while longer, at least.’ Shoma looked up at him, his lips moving but no words coming out as he fought the swirl of emotions Yuzuru was pulling out of him.  
‘I can’t make any more promises, Yuzu,’ he said, plaintively hushed, and Yuzuru smiled sadly.  
‘I know.’ He shrugged. ‘But you can at least promise to stay one last night…that’s barely a promise at all. It’s just…a pause. A chance to rest before we say our choices have been made.’

Shoma gazed up at him, taking in the resignation and the determination, the wealth of feeling. Then, slowly, he took an almost imperceptibly small step back towards him, his hands coming up to his neck. It wasn’t a decision, not really – Shoma’s body had moved without his permission, his power wrapping around Yuzuru’s instinctively before Shoma even knew what he was doing; but Shoma wanted it all the same. He rose up onto his tiptoes and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to Yuzuru’s lips and then slowly drew back and met his gaze.  
‘Ok,’ he whispered. Yuzuru’s lips twitched into an almost-smile. ‘Ok.’ The lift doors swished closed again behind them, and they were safe inside the silence once more. Yuzuru dipped his head, drawing Shoma into another, lingering kiss, one hand pressing firmly into the small of his back, keeping him close and safe and upright, and Shoma let the feeling of it flood his system, let it wash over every question mark and consequence until there was nothing but Yuzuru and his lightning behind his eyes. Damage and destruction could wait for another day; somewhere Itsuki was probably yelling again, but Shoma didn’t have the energy left in him to care. It was just one more night – that was all.

Shoma wasn’t sure how long it had taken him to fall asleep – not long enough, when all he wanted was to stay awake, to drink in every second of being by Yuzuru’s side. Time was slipping through his fingers again, moving at twice the speed he wanted it to, and for once his power didn’t seem to know how to change it. Maybe it was the clock’s revenge on him for all the moments his power had got loose and caught it before, holding it still for stupid, frivolous reasons, none of which seemed so important to Shoma now. He tried to keep his eyes open, forcing himself to not let go, to take in Yuzuru’s unguarded face and listen to the sound of his breathing evening out as he slept. He was so peaceful when he slept; the constant fluttering of his usually restless spirit finally subdued into something total and humming. He felt so warm and so safe beside him that Shoma found it an effort not to sink into it, not to wrap himself around it and press his own power back against it. The pale light which lit the room had washed out the colour from Yuzuru’s features, making him a smudged, charcoal sketch against the whiteness of the hotel sheets, his body all angles and his face all shadows. But Shoma still saw the grace in him, the starlight and the sweetness, saw it in the neat fan of his eyelashes against his skin, the dusky pink pout of his slightly-parted lips, the dainty way his hands rested together against his pillow, his fingers slender and half-clenched. His shirt had twisted in his sleep, and Shoma realised he could see the faintest trace of thin, gold lines at his shoulder, almost shimmering in the gossamer light; instinctively he reached out, tentatively pulling at the fabric just enough, and his breath caught slightly as finally saw Yuzuru’s power mark. The wings were beautiful – the feathers delicate, the gold lines detailed and intricate – but still they were somehow strong, like they could carry anything when unfurled. Shoma touched his finger to their edges, and a shiver of electricity immediately ran through his body. To his surprise, the wings seemed to glow beneath his fingertips, briefly stretching and shaking themselves out before resettling again, and Shoma would have dismissed it as a trick of the light if it wasn’t for the fact he saw a single gold feather fall free, twirling down from the wings and dissolving into Yuzuru’s skin. He pulled his hand back and lay his head down, letting out a heavy, exhausted sigh. ‘You have to fly. And I have to let you,’ he murmured, his fingers tracing a gentle pattern across Yuzuru’s back. ‘But I have to know I can feel the ground underneath me, Yuzu.’ He closed his eyes. ‘And you have to let me do that too.’

Shoma was woken the next morning by the faint tickle of fingers brushing along his jawline, and when he opened his eyes Yuzuru was standing over him, framed by the dusty pastels of sunrise, his whole face a blush of light and a wistful smile curving his lips at one corner. ‘What time is it?’ Shoma mumbled, rubbing his eyes and squinting up at him, trying to focus on him more clearly; he was already dressed, but his skin was still damp from his shower, his hair fluffy and towel-tangled.  
‘It’s time to go, Shoma’ Yuzuru whispered, leaning in to press a brief kiss to his temple.  
‘It’s finally over then,’ Shoma sighed, rolling slowly onto his back and gazing up at the ceiling blearily. Yuzuru hummed, a sad, thoughtful sound, and Shoma glanced across at him.  
‘A few more presentations before going to the airport, but, yeah. It’s over. Everything moves on eventually,’ he murmured, and Shoma nodded, biting at the skin of his bottom lip and swallowing hard.  
‘Yeah. I guess it does.’

It could have stayed strange and heavy between them – and maybe it should have done, maybe a little discomfort would have done them some good, made everything suddenly seem simpler. But Shoma didn’t know how to feel like anything other than himself around Yuzuru, didn’t know how to feel dislodged or like he didn’t belong; they fell into place the way they always did, Yuzuru fussing and Shoma trailing sluggishly along beside him, complaining at him and laughing with him and obligingly letting him throw things at his head when they both went down to his room to collect his bag and Yuzuru found the state his case was in. Yuzuru set about immaculately folding things and Shoma wound him up by bundling everything together in an ungainly lump so that Yuzuru had to sit on the case to help him close it. As Shoma clicked the padlock in place, Yuzuru produced a KitKat from his pocket for them to share as their reward for being ready on time, and just like that it was like any other day. Shoma hardly thought of the unfurled wings. The falling feather. The kisses, the warm skin, the city lights blurring and Yuzuru smiling against his lips. He hardly thought about any of it, until the air grew quiet between them again and suddenly the memories were inescapable. Yuzuru looked over, eyes glinting, and Shoma blushed and turned away.

Travelling had never been something Shoma enjoyed; he couldn’t understand how other people endured the upheaval and confusion of it all, taking the discomfort and the inconvenience in stride like it didn’t even touch them. But for the first time in his life he found himself wishing a journey could be longer. The dry plane air and the scratchy blanket were nothing in comparison to the feelings he would have to face up to once they landed, and there was something safe about being trapped in the in-between. He wanted that statelessness to last – there was peace in being nowhere, because it left all rules and decisions and realities suspended, kept him high above the whole mess of the real world where it could neither see nor reach him. In that way, the transition was safer than the change – something protected and quiet that would almost have been soothing if Shoma couldn’t feel the slow, steady undercurrent of change. Yuzuru was quiet and sleep-worn by his side, slouched down in his seat with his legs pulled up to his chest, a silly, squashed pout on his face from the way he’d wedged the pillow between himself and the seat. He was all limbs and angles, folded up in an impossible pretzel that shouldn’t have been comfortable, but there was still something strangely content in him, like he’d made peace with the sensation of time ebbing away. He wasn’t asleep – Shoma knew because he knew what his face looked like asleep, had learned to recognise the subtle shift in the muscles there, the way his lips would turn down just slightly at the corners and purse just a little as he puffed out the odd huff of breath. But nevertheless, he was sweetly peaceful, making no attempt to hold together his ragged edges and keeping his lightning open to Shoma’s power, casually allowing it to curl in invisible tendrils of electricity whilst he distractedly tapped along to his music on his knee. Shoma watched his lips moving as he muttered the words under his breath, his head occasionally bobbing, and he smiled slightly, shaking his head; because he looked ridiculous, wiry and vulnerable, curled up into a knot in his airline seat like a child. He looked like the nonsense-person Shoma had been so desperate to chase, back when he’d first seen him drifting through the courtyard what felt like a lifetime ago. And it occurred to him that, if this was just about Yuzuru, he might have tried harder. But this was about more than just what he stood to lose in him – it was about the picture of his life, about what it would be like if the Foundation was where he lived it as opposed to if he took it back and made it his own again. But for now, Yuzuru was all he had in front of him – the only thing there to acknowledge. He didn’t want to think about the rest of it, to keep talking about it over and over – he wanted to lose himself in cataloguing this person who had burst into his world without a hint of reservation, introducing himself like his name wasn’t splashed on every front page. He wanted to stare at how the dim cabin light made him look fuzzy and pale and innocent, the twitch of his cheeks as he pushed the pillow down a little and the elegant way he stretched out his fingers and then pulled his sleeves down over them protectively.

After a while Yuzuru nudged at Shoma with his foot, making him jump, and his gaze snapped up self-consciously from where it had been lingering on Yuzuru’s lips, which were now curving up into an amused smile, his eyebrow arching and his eyes sparkling in the shadows.  
‘You want something, Sho?’ he asked in a whisper, widening his eyes playfully. ‘A photo? Some lip balm? Me to show you how to work the _actual_ in-flight entertainment?’ Shoma rolled his eyes at him, sticking his tongue out petulantly.  
‘I was just…thinking,’ he huffed, settling back a little and glancing down with a small smile. ‘Trust you to ruin the moment by talking,’ he joked, and Yuzuru laughed, the sound breathy and hushed in the late-night quiet. Everyone else was asleep, as far as Shoma could see, and even the cabin crew had disappeared, ducking behind the curtain at the front and out of view, like they understood that all Shoma wanted was to be alone with Yuzuru for just a little longer.  
‘So: what were you thinking about, Shoma?’ Yuzuru asked gently, and Shoma glanced back up at him with a small shrug.  
‘Stuff,’ he said evasively, and Yuzuru rolled his eyes, shifting a little in his seat, considering Shoma for a beat before holding out an arm towards him invitingly. Shoma hesitated, looking at him thoughtfully before drawing in a deep breath and surrendering with a small groan. ‘You still don’t bite, right?’ he muttered and Yuzuru laughed.  
‘We’ll see.’ Shoma smirked, rolling his eyes and crawling across the small space between them gratefully, laying his head against Yuzuru’s chest and smiling despite himself as Yuzuru laid his arm tenderly around his shoulders, fitting them together perfectly. 

Yuzuru didn’t press him. Didn’t fuss or pester or nag. He simply began to stroke his fingers through Shoma’s hair, slow and soothing, going back to faintly singing along to his music under his breath. Shoma squeezed his eyes shut and focused on every single detail; the rough, husky sound of Yuzuru’s voice, the burr of his breathing and the precise movements of his fingers, the coolness of them as they briefly grazed the top of his ear. The worn-smooth feeling of his Foundation jacket against the raw, hot blush along Shoma’s jawline. The way the dry air felt suddenly thicker and fuller in his lungs when laced with that familiar hint of bergamot. Yuzuru’s frame was so pleasingly firm and yet so fragile against his own – his bird bones sharp but his body warm and electric – and still he didn’t ask for anything, giving Shoma peace and stability and warmth without question or demand. Shoma looked up at him blearily, enjoying another chance to stare shamelessly at the contradiction in his features; sweet but steely, innocent but wise, peaceful but full of lightning. He felt the sense of something ending just as keenly as Shoma did, Shoma knew it. But he looked serene, sublime and silly, brilliant like he always was, like nothing could touch him – like he thought the bittersweet was beautiful. ‘Have you ever been inside a moment you didn’t want to end?’ Shoma asked, so soft he wasn’t sure Yuzuru had heard him over his music until he shifted his head just a little, twisting to look down into Shoma’s upturned face. There was something magnificent about the look in Yuzuru’s eyes – in their depths were a million stories, and an awareness that every one had meant something to him once. Feeling spilled out of him, always – without apology or denial – and it was something gorgeous. Something Shoma wished he could feel, so he could see, just for a moment, the world as it looked through Yuzuru’s eyes.  
‘We have all had moments in the dark, Shoma; when the adrenaline has worn off and we know the dawn is coming. When we feel the silence, the vibration of what has been still fresh on our skin. But moments were made to pass. Every morning makes a memory of the night before; without it being that way, would we ever learn to appreciate what we have? Would we ever take a moment inside a moment to be grateful that we knew the feeling of sunlight through the trees or the ridges of someone’s fingerprints, the twist of glitter in the air?’ Yuzuru’s fingers brushed fondly at Shoma’s cheek, his smile full but dark, his blinks slow as he studied Shoma’s face for a beat. ‘Life is built of light and shade. Without feeling lost, how could we ever appreciate what it is like when a person makes us feel completely found? We can only know how much we want to hold on…because of how deeply it hurts us when we realise it is time to let go.’  
‘You make it sound so desperate,’ Shoma whispered. Yuzuru’s smile gentled, and he shook his head ever so slightly.  
‘Maybe sometimes it is – but that’s ok. Some moments were meant to cross our path and never return. But some…they come around again – because second chances are their own kind of magic, and nothing that has meant so much can ever be lost as long as we allow ourselves to remember.’ He shrugged, his smile turning sleepy and lopsided, and Shoma felt his thunder plateau out into a mist of rain. ‘It happened once, it could happen again – every miracle was dismissed as an impossibility at some point…until one day the miracle occurred. Who would have thought there could be someone like you in the world? So constant and so full. But here you are. A possible and certain thing, right here at my fingertips.’ Shoma swallowed hard and closed his eyes, turning against Yuzuru slightly with a soft sigh.  
‘For now,’ he managed, small and sad, and Yuzuru let out a sad laugh, kissing the top of his head.  
‘A memory is something which can be kept, at least. And the best ones breathe inside you forever, Shoma. Those moments you feel are slipping out of your reach? They will be memories one day. They will have a new life that way. That is what I choose to hold on to; for now and for forever are not so far apart that way.’

They returned to the Foundation just as dawn was breaking; the last traces of the night before were ebbing out at the sky’s farthest edges, and whispers of peach and pastel stretched out into the cloudless morning overhead. The skyscrapers looked even more unreal than Shoma had remembered, the birds bobbing in the sky around them like they were suspended on strings – the air was crisp and crackling with magic and the glass of the buildings was smoky and dull in the fuzz of the sunrise. Everything was still and cool, quiet but for the sound of people dragging suitcases and the low murmuring of goodbyes. There was something strange and wistful about it all and it made Shoma feel helpless and fragile. As everyone shuffled out into the morning air, Brian and Tracy sent them off with assurances they were all excused from their usual schedules for the rest of the week, and Shoma slipped away from the group without saying a word to anyone; he caught Yuzuru looking up and watching him go, but he didn’t stop, and Yuzuru didn’t try to make him.

Shoma hauled his suitcase into his room and abandoned it by the door, wandering over to his bed and flopping down onto it with a sigh. He was exhausted – completely spent and empty, his emotions subdued and his eyelids heavy – but he wasn’t in the mood to sleep. Instead he lay there for a while, listening to the sounds of several doors along his corridor opening and closing and letting his mind go blank for the first time in days. As the brief flurry of activity from everyone’s arrival died down, the Foundation became unearthly-calm once more, and Shoma could feel the thickness of it settling around him, powdery and soft and full of the feeling of the last remnants of what had gone before dissolving out into the daylight. He shifted his head slightly, gazing around at the crisp lines of the room and the empty spaces where he thought some trace of his life here should probably be; but it felt grey and cold and bare, and it occurred to him how little of himself he had managed to bring to the place. This wasn’t where he had built his life at the Foundation – that was all in the courtyard and under the glass sky of Tracy’s lecture hall, that was in the garden and out on the playing field at sunset, and anywhere where Yuzuru was. Shoma was messy and useless at organisation, and had lived mostly out of his suitcases when he’d first arrived – what little of his stuff had been unpacked had ended up being back in his case again when he left for the summit, and the only real sign that he had spent any time here at all was his and Itsuki’s raggedy old bear, propped up on the window ledge after Yuzuru had rescued him from the bottom of one of Shoma’s suitcases, remarking “He’ll suffocate!” in a high, ridiculously outraged tone that was so childish Shoma hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh in mild exasperation, rolling his eyes fondly at the reverent way Yuzuru proceeded to sit the bear up and nod at his handiwork. There was a scrap of paper lying on the floor beside the bed, and Shoma frowned at it, rolling over to pick it up; the page was torn from a notebook, Yuzuru’s scratchy handwriting all over it, punctuated in places by crossings-out and random doodles of Shoma’s. It was an early draft of one of Yuzuru’s speeches, Shoma’s favourite, from the livestream in Singapore, the one full of hope and a firm belief in the simplicity of magic. Shoma drew in a deep, shuddering breath at the sight of it; he could almost hear Yuzuru whining that the conclusion didn’t sound right, his own laugh as he listened to him swapping out various words in frustration before he’d balled up the paper and lobbed it at Shoma’s head. Shoma shoved it in his pocket with a sigh. Dolefully, he turned his eyes back to the blank slate of his room: every sign he had been here was a sign Yuzuru had been here too, and that couldn’t be right, couldn’t be healthy. His life had hardly left a mark on this place – there was no imprint of him, like he’d never even been here at all, and it made him feel suddenly, desperately lonely, homesick like he hadn’t been since that first day, sitting up on the window ledge with his knees pulled up to his chest and his power tightly held in. Before he’d dipped his hands in the courtyard pools or eaten at the late-night takeaways. Before he’d met the nonsense that was the rest of Team Japan or been badgered into playing games with the Shibutanis out on the playing field. That was before he’d even seen what Yuzuru’s face looked like up close, or lain out on the grass beneath a conjured dusk and listened to one of his never-ending hyena laughs. It seemed so long ago – and yet still this emptiness remained. He was lost and he was at a loss, and he was further away from home than he had been when he’d got on the plane. He knew what he had to do, but forcing himself to do it was still hard, still an immense effort.

Mihoko was – thankfully – in her office when Shoma knocked an hour later. She was nursing a coffee, but not busy enough looking through her lecture papers to mind Shoma showing up unannounced; she gave him a wide, delighted smile like she had genuinely missed him, and Shoma practically threw himself into the hug she offered, squeezing tightly and holding on for just that bit longer than he normally would. She rubbed his back and squeezed him in return, humming a caring “Poor thing, you must be exhausted, right?” somewhere over his shoulder and laughing kindly when he simply nodded against her.  
‘You look like you need to talk,’ she said softly. Shoma nodded again.

They ended up sitting together on the squashy sofa of the mentors’ lounge, Shoma clutching a plump cushion to his chest as he spilled everything he was feeling out into the quiet. Mihoko smiled kindly, nodding and humming at all the right moments, making little sounds of sympathy here and there and neatly tucking her hair behind her ears as she waited for Shoma to gather himself every time he faltered. He carefully talked around Yuzuru; something in Mihoko’s face every time his name came up told Shoma she had her suspicions, but she allowed him his vague, dismissive waves of his hand without comment or open scepticism, and for that Shoma was grateful. Because it wasn’t entirely his secret to share, and he wasn’t sure Yuzuru would want the mentors to know about the deep, complicated thing that had grown between them – after all, that would mean him having to acknowledge he’d had to give up a fight, and that was something Yuzuru simply didn’t do. But Shoma told Mihoko everything else, even the parts he felt mildly embarrassed by, like the homesickness and the ache of longing to just be himself again. And when he was done he let out a heavy sigh, turning his gaze out to the sea beyond the window with sad, tired eyes before whispering the one thing that had been on his mind since that final night curled against Yuzuru’s back.  
‘I don’t want to be part of this anymore. I just…want to go back to how it was before. To who I was before. I just want to go back home.’ To his surprise Mihoko nodded, calm and quiet, reaching out to pat warmly at his knee.  
‘Ok, Shoma. We will see what we can do,’ she told him softly. So firm. So sure. So understanding. Like it wasn’t a big deal at all. It was almost enough to ease the knot of emotions forming in the pit of his stomach – at least until she had mentioned talking to Brian and Tracy when they returned to their offices in the afternoon.

It wasn’t as awful as he had thought it might be. They’d both been understanding and gentle; matter-of-fact and subdued about the situation in a way Shoma hadn’t really expected but that he was grateful for all the same, even if a part of him suspected it was largely thanks to the jetlag. He was being treated like a child – of this fact he was dimly aware. But it was hard to be irritated by it. Maybe he needed it. Maybe he deserved it. After all, he was throwing all the time and effort that had invested in him back in their faces – he was throwing out all his toys and running away.  
‘You can’t force these things, Shoma. We understand,’ Brian had said gently, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him and studying Shoma’s face with tired, disappointed eyes. ‘I’m not going to lie: I’d rather you stayed, of course – we would like to have someone like you be part of our work here. But if you don’t feel your best, then we would be going against everything we have tried to build by attempting to make you stay and pretend. You need to be healthy and happy; if you’re not up to feeling that without a little more familiarity around you, then it’s not my place to tell you you’re wrong.’ Brian’s smile softened, his eyes kind and surprisingly understanding as he reached out, straining over his desk to pat Shoma’s arm. ‘I’ll look into flights immediately and put some options together for you, ok? And for now…we’ll just call it indefinite leave. No need to make anything final, especially not when you’ve just come off a very favourable reaction from the press – it would look strange for us to announce a departure right now, and I have to take that into account, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t necessary. Besides, nothing should seem final to you unless that’s how you choose to think of it: you are welcome to change your mind at any time, none of my kids will ever be turned away if they want to come back to us here, even if they only want a flying visit. There will always be a family for you here, should you need it.’  
‘Thank you,’ Shoma managed in a mumble. Brian patted his arm again and Mihoko rubbed his back; somehow it made him feel worse.  
‘You’re powerful, Shoma. But that’s not _who_ you are. You are very certain of your limits and of what you want your life to look like – those are some of your best qualities. So…far be it from us to tell you you’re not allowed to feel how you feel,’ Tracy put in from where she was perched on the corner of the desk. She smiled down at him, her caring, open face lit up with fondness, her all-knowing eyes twinkling with some sympathy and just a little concern as she hesitated awkwardly. ‘Have you talked to Yuzu about all this?’ Shoma looked down, wincing at the tight, tentative whisper and biting at his lip self-consciously.  
‘Yes,’ he managed. ‘A little.’ He swallowed and lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. ‘He doesn’t know I’ve decided to go…but he knows…he knows enough.’ Tracy nodded slowly, reaching out to give his shoulder a small squeeze.  
‘As long as you two both know where you stand,’ she sighed, and Shoma nodded vaguely, faintly embarrassed and still not able to meet her gaze.  
‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, and Tracy laughed, sad and soft.  
‘No need: Yuzu is Yuzu, he’ll be ok.’ Brian hummed in half-agreement.  
‘Or at least he’ll tell us he is ‘til he’s blue in the face,’ he sighed, and when Shoma looked over at him he offered a tight smile and a shrug his way. ‘It’s just how he is – and it’s not your responsibility. Yuzu has more than enough support if he chooses to take it, and his happiness is not more important than yours. Yuzu would back me up on that one. You two are close enough friends that I don’t doubt all either one of you wants for the other is the best – and distance or a change of circumstances shouldn’t be enough to undermine a connection like yours.’ All Shoma could do was nod silently and look away. To his relief, Mihoko moved the conversation in a new direction and he let out an uneasy breath.

By the time Shoma made it back to his room, everything was settled; decision made, flights booked, promises given that his room would remain assigned to him and his name marked with a small, yellow dot on the Foundation’s computer system to represent his release on indefinite leave. Even his parents had been told. There was nothing else to think about, no more choices to face – his path was laid out and he was free to walk it. Except for one raw, glaring, loud loose end, nagging at the back of his mind.

The garden’s sky was smoky-grey and heavy when Shoma arrived that night, the stars barely-visible beyond the thick rainclouds building at its edges; the trees were bending and swaying at the grass’ edges, twisting in the wind. The air was full of storms, but there was something hauntingly empty at its core that chilled Shoma to the bone. Yuzuru was easy to spot amidst it all: he stood on the bridge, a frighteningly still, muddy shadow, leaning his body against the railing and gazing down into the ink-blot dark of the pond’s unusually murky waters, like there was some answer in there he desperately wanted to find. Yuzuru didn’t look up when Shoma stepped onto the bridge, didn’t even react when he came to a halt an awkward distance away – and Shoma didn’t want to interrupt the moment, didn’t want to be the one who started their last conversation. Last conversation – he hated the very idea. For a moment that seemed to stretch into forever, they both stood silently, eyes on points in the distance, their breaths uneven and the sharp edges of the wind tangling through their hair with chilling strength.

‘You’re leaving, aren’t you.’ A simple, calm statement, soft and cracked and barely breaking the quiet – an wince of a thing, so gentle Shoma barely heard it over the sound of the rustling leaves.  
‘Yes,’ he let out wetly. Yuzuru hid his flinch well. Petals fell like haunting confetti all around them, and Shoma focused on the ones which had caught themselves in Yuzuru’s hair, glad of any distraction that meant he didn’t have to look into his pale, shadowed face. Thunder rumbled overhead and Shoma closed his eyes against the sound. ‘My flight is on Thursday…it was that or wait two weeks and I didn’t…I couldn’t…’ He huffed, trying to force the shake out of his voice and blinking his eyes back open; to his surprise Yuzuru was looking down, for once not demanding eye contact, not meeting Shoma with the full force of him. There was a mist of rain dancing in the air and Shoma pulled his jacket more tightly around himself, shivering and weak and desperate. This wasn’t how he wanted this to be – but he knew he deserved it. ‘I have to go, Yuzu,’ he said. ‘I just…I don’t recognise my life anymore. Not because of you, but because of everything – because of everything being here means. I don’t recognise my life and I don’t feel in control of myself or my power because of it. I miss my home and my family. The people and the places I know, that I’ve always known. That I don’t have to worry about constantly.’ Yuzuru winced slightly, looking back towards the pond for a moment before swallowing hard and nodding, slow at first but growing more determined. He brushed a rogue raindrop out of his face and for the first time Shoma realised his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy – he noticed the dark, glassy squint he looked up with and the way he blinked that bit too much. How long had he been waiting here, knowing this was coming and hoping, with every second, that maybe it wouldn’t? Shoma winced, taking a step towards him, his fingers twitching as he itched to reach out and touch. And then he stopped abruptly, catching himself. His hand fell back uselessly to his side. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. Yuzuru looked at him with a watery smile, scrunching his nose up and shaking his head a little too quickly, a little too frantically; he waved a hand and drew in a deep, steadying breath that seemed to help him regain his balance slightly, though another rumble of thunder overhead told the story he was hiding from his face.  
‘Don’t be,’ Yuzuru said quietly, swallowing again and shrugging. ‘Don’t be sorry. I don’t want you to be sorry.’ His words were too quick, too rushed, but there was something so genuine in them it made Shoma’s whole body ache. ‘I don’t want you to be sorry: I want you to be Shoma. I want you to be brilliant Shoma; stubborn and sweet. That’s all I want. Always.’ He smiled again, something briefly shining in his eyes. ‘You have to go so you can be Shoma – you have to go and be steadfast and safe.’ Shoma let out a sound which wasn’t quite a laugh, turning his eyes up to the near-black sky and pursing his lips against the rain.  
‘I don’t feel very steadfast right now,’ he whispered. How Yuzuru heard he didn’t know, but he did – he must have, because he took a step towards him, his hand moving the same way Shoma’s had before. He came to a stop with the same jerk of realisation and Shoma closed his eyes so he didn’t have to acknowledge it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. Yuzuru sniffed, shaking his head and looking down.  
‘Stop. We were both complicit in this moment; we knew what we had to lose, and we both suspected we would lose it. Everyone is to blame. Which means, I think, that no one is to blame at all.’ Shoma nodded slowly, sniffing and brushing a raindrop from the corner of his lip that tasted suspiciously like a tear. ‘You must remember your own advice, Shoma,’ Yuzuru added softly, taking another small step closer, just enough to make Shoma look at him again. His forehead creased into the faintest of frowns and Yuzuru smiled just a little, meeting his eyes intently. ‘Take only what you need,’ he whispered. Shoma almost laughed. ‘You take magic and whispered conversations. Take your most important memories. And… also take the knowledge that – no matter how it might have ended – it was still something wonderful whilst it lasted. But above all? Take our promises, and know that if you ever need to send out a flare, I will come. Because I will always remember you, Shoma; like the moon remembers the light of the sun even after the Earth has briefly come in between them. I will always remember you. And your light.’ Shoma offered Yuzuru a wet, wonky smile.  
‘You really do remember everything, huh?’ Yuzuru smiled.  
‘Only the important things. Like you. And your words.’ Shoma sniffed again and swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, trying blink back another wave of tears.  
‘Would it be ok if I spent half my time trying to forget?’ he managed wryly, looking up at Yuzuru and rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll fail. Because you’re not something built to be forgotten. But still. I think…I think I might try.’ He swallowed hard. ‘But…I know even when I don’t want to remember, I will. And I…I will always see you in colours, Yuzu. In every colour. Even if everything else fades, that is the way I’ll always see you. I’m sure of it.’ Yuzuru smiled at that, pink and delicate, as he leant in just a little.  
‘And I will see you in gold, Shoma.’ His eyes danced with light. ‘I will see you in gold. Shining.’

The wind had picked up around them, but where they stood everything seemed strangely still; Shoma looked at Yuzuru the same way he had the night they had first spoken, committing every detail to memory with the fervour of someone who wasn’t sure they would ever get the chance again. And in return Yuzuru looked at him like he was a magical thing – like he hadn’t simply added more bruises to his already-extensive list of battle scars. The thunder sounded a little more distant now, but the rain had gotten heavier whilst they’d been standing there, and Shoma could feel his fringe beginning to stick to his forehead in messy tendrils; Yuzuru’s hair was still laced with petals, and he supposed his must be too, but the petals seemed to fly around Yuzuru like an aura, like they were riding the static of his electricity, drawn to the scorched earth of his lightning strike heart. He was painfully glorious – his edges wild and distorted by fireworks of blossom in damp, dusky pink.

Yuzuru took another step forward and Shoma closed his eyes again as he closed the gap between them – this time when he reached out he didn’t immediately pull back, instead bringing a hand up to the side of Shoma’s neck, cold, dainty fingers dragging gently along his skin. Shoma’s face crumpled into a pained wince. It felt too good, too familiar and too electric.  
‘Please don’t kiss me,’ he let out in a soft whimper, blinking his eyes open to look up into Yuzuru’s face. ‘If you kiss me right now I might forget every single reason I have to leave. And I don’t want to have to do this again two, three, four weeks down the road, when it will feel even worse and sting even harder.’ Yuzuru didn’t flicker, some of his usual force of spirit coming back to him for just a moment as his face creased briefly into a sad, sweet little smile. He leant his forehead to Shoma’s with a small, understanding hum, pushing his weight against him just enough that Shoma had to steady himself, had to bring his hands to Yuzuru’s waist to stop from stumbling.  
‘I will miss you so much, wonderful Shoma,’ Yuzuru murmured, lifting his head to press a lingering kiss to Shoma’s forehead before leaning back just a little and cupping his face. ‘But one day? I will just be a story you tell at sunset and nothing more – because you will be _so_ happy, Sho. And you won’t have any need to miss me at all.’ He held Shoma’s face in his hands in such a way that Shoma had no choice but to meet his gaze with wide, glassy eyes, his breath catching painfully in the back of his throat as he did.  
‘Thank you,’ he managed, the sound hitched and hiccupping as Yuzuru simply smiled at him quietly. ‘For making this…easy. Easier, at least.’ Shoma smiled a broken, rueful smile, stretching up onto his tiptoes and breaking his own rule by pressing a single, chaste kiss to Yuzuru’s lips. ‘Please, Yuzuru: come back from the Alliance safe. Come back in one piece. Come back and just…be ok.’ Yuzuru sighed, touching his forehead to Shoma’s again, apologetic and worn-thin.  
‘I won’t make you any promises I can’t keep, Shoma. But I will promise to try, ok?’ Shoma swallowed, nodding against him; because he understood that was the best Yuzuru could do. He closed his eyes and Yuzuru brushed his thumb along his cheek. ‘I hope you find what it is you are looking for. I hope you get the life you want as the person you want to be, ok? And most of all? I hope you never have to doubt again. I hope you will be steadfast once more. Because that is how you were meant to be.’  
‘I hope the same for you too, Yuzu. And more than anything…I hope you don’t just survive; I hope you’ll be happy too.’

They stood together as the rain grew louder around them, both of them closing their eyes against the growing storm and focusing only on the sound of each other breathing. It was an effort but they managed it, letting their powers reach out in ribbons one last time and feeling the warmth of it leech a little of the devastation from their skin.  
‘You should go and get some rest, Shoma,’ Yuzuru murmured at last. ‘It’s too late now to change any of this, and too dark to do much besides feel the world turn beneath us. So go and close your eyes and get some sleep; in the morning, everything will feel decided again. And you will be ok.’

Shoma didn’t want to leave, but he understood what Yuzuru was telling him: don’t let me hold on, because I will. He nodded, slow and with eyes downturned, and stepped back from Yuzuru without daring to meet his gaze. He didn’t want to remember that expression on his face, didn’t want to acknowledge that he was the one who had put it there. There was another crack of thunder, and Shoma looked up towards the conjured sky as tendrils of charcoal cloud unfurled across it like currents in an ocean. Yuzuru reached out and took his hand, lifting it to press a single kiss to his palm before squeezing his fingers and letting him go.  
‘Goodnight, Yuzuru,’ Shoma whispered.  
‘Goodnight, Shoma,’ Yuzuru replied.

By the time he made it to the top of the path there was hail, and when he glanced back over his shoulder he saw the outline of Yuzuru, still standing on the bridge in the middle of the chaos, a smudge of light amidst the gloom.

The rest of Team Japan were the only people Shoma told that he was leaving, relying on them to spread the word to everyone else; he was cagey and evasive when they questioned him, making mumblings about how tired he was and pointing out that officially it was only open-ended leave. Only Keiji and Satoko weren’t appeased, and he gave them a fuller version of the story eventually, when they got him alone. They didn’t try to talk him around – because they were good friends and they understood that that wasn’t what he needed. But he could tell they didn’t understand.

When Thursday came, all Shoma wanted was to be allowed to slip away from the Foundation as though he had never been there at all; he didn’t want to think of himself as inextricably connected when all he craved was for everything to be the way it was before. He tried to hide this outlook from Satoko and Keiji as they insisted on spending his final night eating takeaway and badgering him, but the dawn took too long to come and the pretence was hard to hold. Satoko saw through him like she always did, and though she tried hard to let him be the one to make the admission, in the end his wistful silence forced her to show her hand.  
‘It’s impossible, you know,’ she told him calmly as they sat in the window ledge watching the sun rise on Thursday morning. Shoma looked at her questioningly and she shrugged, offering him a sad, vaguely apologetic smile before turning her gaze back out towards the fishing boats bobbing out on the horizon. ‘Erasing it? Erasing him? You can’t go back, Shoma. Even the most powerful Healers can’t undo the things which cause us scars. You can halt some things, change some outcomes, make the smallest shifts. But you can never undo the impact. The indentation. The moment that left its mark.’ Shoma sighed, pulling his knees more tightly into his chest and resting his head on them, gazing out at the eerily calm, grey sea and the misty yellow sky.  
‘You can pretend to forget, though,’ he murmured. ‘You can go home and you can just…choose to not remember.’

Satoko was quiet for a long time; the silence in the room was punctuated only by the sound of Keiji breathing heavily from the bed behind them, and the air felt thick and still, the way it always did before everything changed.  
‘You can try to go home. But who you are is something you carry with you everywhere – regardless of how you may try to forget the memories, you are still shaped by them. There are some things which can’t be undone.’ Shoma could feel Satoko’s eyes on him and he deliberately didn’t lift his head, tried to fight the feeling of her piercing gaze with everything he had. ‘You are not as lost as you think you are, Shoma. And I wish that you would realise that. You are not so lost as you think…and maybe, logically, what that really makes you? Is found. Perhaps that’s what really scares you.’ Shoma closed his eyes for a beat and wet his lips, drawing in a deep breath before he looked up at her.  
‘Because to be found can leave you vulnerable sometimes. I think it’s better to be lost – to be anonymous and sure that you are standing on your own, not waiting for other hands you didn’t even realise were there to reach in and break your bones.’ He offered Satoko a helpless shrug. ‘That’s all you can really do in life, right? The only definite thing you can do: survive, be practical. I can’t change anything just by willing it to be different; if I could, all of this would be playing out a different way…and Yuzu would just be some guy I met who had a future like everyone else. If it was up to me? Everyone would live. And the colours would stay. And nothing would be anything less than simple.’  
‘But that’s not life.’  
‘I know. So…I’m settling for second best. My home. My family. My own choices. And it sucks but…in a lot of ways, so do the alternatives. I’m taking the least worst option. Because it’s all I know how to do.’

Satoko sighed – a small, defeated sound – and reached out a hand, waggling her fingers at him and smiling when he accepted the offer, letting her give his hand a firm, fierce squeeze. It somehow said everything in a gesture; her affection, her frustration and her support, unwavering and solid, something profound and full that Shoma felt grateful for. He would miss her more than he wanted to admit. They let go slowly, turning their gazes back towards the horizon and watching in silence as the birds began to wake up to start their day, gliding elegantly out from wherever they had been hiding and into the coolness of the pastel sky. Having been awake all night, everything felt strangely distant and surreal, hazy and disconnected; a part of Shoma was already gone, something inside him having waved goodbye with the rising sun.

In the end, his departure was quiet and mostly without fanfare. Somehow Keiji and Satoko had convinced the rest of Team Japan to not make a fuss, so it was only the two of them and Kanako who came down to the courtyard to see him off, giving him fierce, bone-crushing hugs and telling him how he had to keep in touch even though they all knew he wouldn’t. Satoko and Kanako both went in for final hugs, and Keiji gave his shoulder another pat, and Shoma thought he was actually going to manage to slip out without any tears or unwanted reminders when the sound of someone shouting his name from across the courtyard halted his getaway, and he turned to squint over to where the voice had come from. To his surprise it was Jun, running towards them in a goofy nonsense of limbs and smiles, waving a sheath of papers in his hand.  
‘Shoma!’ he called again, and Kanako and Satoko parted to let him through as he came to an ungainly stop, bending over to catch his breath, still beaming sunnily despite it, everything about him at odds with Shoma’s mood. ‘Brian sent me; he was going to come himself but he’s got this thing with Yuzu so…’ He waved a dismissive hand and straightened, blowing strands of his fringe out of his face and thrusting the papers in Shoma’s direction. ‘All his numbers. Like…all of them. Even the ones only Yuzu has. I think Tracy and Ghislain’s stuff is in there too. Oh, and Mihoko’s, obviously.’ Jun shrugged blithely at the still-bewildered Shoma. ‘He says you’re one of his powerful kids now and he’s not risking you getting stuck in a jam and not knowing who to call. There’s ministry contacts and Foundation office lines and super-secret mobile numbers. The whole lot.’ He tilted his head, scrunching his face up comically. ‘Speaking as someone he classes as one of his powerful kids? Trust me, we get into jams a lot. I mean, half of them are because of Yuzu, but still. I’d take the numbers rather than risk it if I were you.’ Shoma blinked at the torrent of words, nodding distantly and taking the offered papers, glancing through them in bemusement before looking back up with a vague smile and a half-bow.  
‘Thank you,’ he said and Jun grinned.  
‘No problem. I mean…it was kind of an order. And Yuzu was looking at me like he’d kill me if I didn’t. But I would’ve offered anyway, I swear.’ Jun’s eyes were aglitter and Shoma laughed slightly, nodding.  
‘So did _Yuzu_ have anything nice to send his dear friend Shoma off with, or is he just being a terrible friend, huh? I mean: won’t he miss him? Isn’t he coming to make this a proper goodbye? Does he care at all that we are seeing poor Shoma go?’ Kanako asked pointedly and Keiji frowned.  
‘ _Kana_ ,’ he muttered through gritted teeth, but Kanako remained oblivious, and Shoma decided to develop a keen interest in his feet.  
‘Oh! Wait, yeah, sure: he did give me something,’ Jun gasped, patting his pockets and eventually finding what he was looking for, producing one of the bakery’s pretty, striped paper bags. He waved it at Shoma, and Shoma’s head shot up as he stared at it in mild suspicion.  
‘Huh?!’ Kanako frowned, and Shoma felt a small smile creep into his face as he tentatively took the offered bag from Jun’s hand.  
‘Yuzu brings me food,’ he shrugged lamely, his voice thready as he looked down at the bag with silly, sad wonder. ‘It’s…our thing.’ Keiji let out a soft snort.  
‘It’s definitely one of your things,’ he said slyly. Shoma shot him a glare.  
‘Yeah, but this isn’t just any food: they’re sun cookies! They’re orange and vanilla and white chocolate, with extra crunchy pieces,’ Jun declared, oblivious and enthusiastic, and Shoma looked up at him with a curious frown. ‘The bakery usually only does them on special occasions, but…I guess Yuzu must have sweet-talked them into making an exception.’ Shoma peeked inside the bag, intrigued, and let out a small laugh when he saw what was in there; three cookies, decorated in golden swirls that formed into intricate suns.  
‘That is _so_ Yuzu,’ he whispered, shaking his head slightly before looking slowly up at Jun. ‘Can you tell him I said he’s ridiculous?’ he asked and Jun nodded. ‘But also…tell him thank you. For everything.’  
‘Of course.’ Jun hesitated, somewhat awkwardly, twisting away a little like he had somewhere to be. ‘I should get back…but…have a safe trip, ok?’ Shoma nodded.  
‘Sure…and thanks, you know…for playing messenger.’  
‘No problem. I hope you come back soon, ok? Otherwise I’m probably gonna be the one stuck with Yuzu all the time – and, you know…it’s a full time job dealing with him!’

In an effort to make sure there was no potential of the press making a story out of Shoma’s Foundation departure, Brian had arranged for one of the Foundation’s own drivers to take him to the airport. Shoma didn’t mind, so much, but he did feel somewhat guilty for dragging the poor woman out of bed so early, and for taking up a whole minibus all to himself. He had shaken off Satoko and Kanako at the edge of the courtyard, insisting he was fine for them to go and accepting the final round of hugs they offered with minimal complaint, but Keiji came with him all the way down the path, insisting on taking one of his bags and offering him painfully kind smiles that made Shoma ache with guilt for leaving. Because for all he had felt like he hadn’t made his mark here, that didn’t mean he hadn’t made good friends, hadn’t met people who probably deserved a better friend than he could be to them and who he knew were faintly baffled by his choices but were still supporting him anyway.

As the minibus pulled out of the main gates, Shoma leant his forehead against the cold glass of the window and stared dolefully up at the skyscrapers, standing tall and defiant against the milky film of the morning light. He watched as the Foundation slowly disappeared behind him, becoming an unlikely speck of glitter, glass and seagulls on the horizon until eventually it was simply just…gone. He tried to let it go back to being that distant, unreal thing it used to be – tried to dismiss it, to brand it a mirage and have no craving to stare back at the space where it had been. But that was an impossibility. No matter what it had felt like when sitting alone in his room, with the traces of the garden’s rain still sticking his jacket to his skin, he knew, deep down, he had become a part of the place. And, in turn, the place had become a part of him.

And then there was Yuzuru, of course. As undeniable as ever in the back of Shoma’s mind; another unreal thing he had allowed in. The full, improbable force of him had crashed like a wrecking ball through Shoma’s carefully-judged world of reservation, practicality and measured decisions – glorious, destructive and beautiful – and Shoma had let it happen without any real resistance. He had simply watched, fascinated, as every one of his walls came down, not stopping to think of the damage until he’d looked around one day and found himself out in the open, vulnerable and exposed. But now it was time to take that control back; to turn away, steady himself and try to rebuild from the rubble. If he was stubborn enough, he could make it seem like nothing had changed at all – and he was almost sure that was what he wanted more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...do you all hate me now? I hope not but...I don't blame you, I know this was an evil rollercoaster and I can only apologise! And I know I said I wouldn't apologise for wordcount but...yeah...this was crazy, I'm...I don't even know, it was just an important chapter I guess so I didn't want to hold back. Famous last words but the next one is going to more reasonable in length, I swear! I hope this chapter was ok and that even with this ending some of you maybe enjoyed it? I've lurched from being proud of this one to doubting ever sentence so I don't even know at this point, but I am so grateful to all of you who have stuck with this story and made it through this wordcount, honestly, you're the best. One final note before I let you sleep off this wordcount: music was a big, big part of this chapter and if you’re interested you can find all the important songs over here: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DqTwkosWwAI3Z0Y.jpg:large & https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DpqeWTuX4AEvYzA.jpg:large (Yes, these are just photos of playlists from my Twitter because I'm too lazy to list everything, sorry! As always you are welcome to follow me if you like: @malinda_29 - I most ramble about writing & skating, so I completely understand if following me holds no appeal!) I hope to get back on some sort of regular update schedule but things are still a little crazy and I've had a lot of writer's block lately so I won't make false promises, but thank you all again for reading and encouraging me – it has meant more than you know and is what has kept me writing even on the rough days, you’re all total stars and I’m so grateful for all your comments and kind words and just general support for this story.


	6. So Open Your Heart And Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really expected to have this done for a December update, but…turns out I didn't factor in how many times I was going to want to proofread this! So, hey, happy new year, I guess! Ok, well…it turns out this chapter is not shorter: I know not how, I have some inkling as to why (Shoma had a lot of feelings, guys…this led to those around him also having a lot of feelings…so…what can you do.) You all know what you’re into with me and my wordcount by now and you all seem fine with it so…yeah, it is what it is. I know I sound like a broken record, but, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to each and every one of you who took the time to read, to comment, to leave kudos, to come find me on Twitter to yell at me or just leave likes…if it wasn’t for you, there were days I would’ve honestly given up on this chapter and walked away, but then I remembered your kind words and your support for this story and I came back and thought maybe I could do this after all, so…I hope I was right to think that and that you all will enjoy this chapter. Honestly, after the warmth you all had for the last chapter I am so scared this one can’t and won’t match up, but I tried my hardest and I hope you all find something in it to like. All of you who wanted the Brothers Uno to get their together-time? I am at least confident I have given you what you wanted!! If you are one of those wonderful souls who reached out to me since the last chapter in any way shape or form: I have seen it, I have valued it, I have kept writing because of it, you are the best. Thank you all again for reading, I hope I have come up with something you will enjoy…

For all that it had cost him, coming home still held a wet, wonderful sort of magic to Shoma, the feeling rain-spattered, overcast and cool on his skin. It felt so settled: the sound of Japanese being spoken all around him, something familiar even in the faces of strangers and something instinctive about the way he could find where he needed to be. It was something precious to him: to be in a place where he was certain he knew the rules. It was so much of a relief to be back that it almost felt like a daydream – something distant and magical – and he tried to absorb it, to be aware of how good it felt just to be on solid ground and to allow himself to appreciate the mundanity of it all. The arrivals hall was a confusion of movie-moments, happy relatives causing scenes and bags and bodies everywhere, and Shoma was happy to slip anonymously past the signs and trolleys and group hugs and out towards the taxi rank, just one of the crowd of people trying to get somewhere on a rainy day. None of his family had been able to make it to the airport on such short notice, and a part of him was glad; the idea of a big welcome home didn’t suit him, and there was something comfortably dull about drifting in unannounced, not least because it was so happily opposite to travelling with the Foundation. He had been longing for the ordinary – for the sheer dreariness of fumbling around with his key and having the freedom to wander through the empty house and then collapse onto his own bed. Like he was coming home from a lecture at university, or dinner with a friend. Like he’d been out of the door a few hours and nothing more.

His taxi driver was a shrewd, wiry man with thick-rimmed glasses and a permanent frown; he talked in sharp, single-word sentences and regarded Shoma like he suspected him of being some juvenile delinquent. Shoma didn’t mind – it meant he didn’t have to make small-talk, or any real effort to be friendly beyond remembering his manners. His suitcases were thunked into the boot for him, and Shoma tried not to wince as half his life was crammed ungraciously into the small space, moving away and sliding quietly into the back seat. He stared blankly out of the window as the driver made it back round to the front and began pressing buttons on the meter with gusto. It was an overcast, unassuming day; Shoma watched the world pass by in a brilliantly dreary, wet blur, taking in the familiarity of it with quiet relief. Somehow his time at the Foundation felt like someone else’s story to him, like something which had taken place in a different time and space. And now he’d woken up back where he started; he looked out at the buildings and the people and the dingy sky and realised just how short a time had really passed. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. Except possibly him – though that wasn’t a thought he was ready to dwell on just yet.

The driver leant over to turn on the radio, and Shoma closed his eyes against the brash, tinny sound of the music bleeding through the ancient speakers. Some obnoxiously happy Western pop song was immediately rejected, the driver flicking the station and hesitating for a while over a melancholy piano piece before flicking again. Something fast-paced and cheerful in hyperactive Japanese – flick – a high, hopeful voice singing about stars – flick – another Western number, this time in ballad form, lamenting the tale of some trivial break-up in shrill, shallow tones – flick. And then, suddenly, a very different voice: warm, familiar and soft, winding through a sentence with measured gentleness.  
‘…of course, because there is never a point where you cannot learn. No one knows everything about powers or colours, no one has the whole picture of any one situation. We grow and improve and achieve by always looking to what others can show us. No one is above anyone else, so why should the Foundation presume to be above those other organisations who have also committed their time and resources to this problem? This is why we exist as an organisation, and it is also why they exist as an organisation – and both sides wish to acknowledge this in a time of growing disconnect on the world stage. Sometimes it might feel like a competition, or an effort to prove who is right – but ultimately? We all hope for the same outcome, and these ways of looking at things don’t push us forwards. We must push each other, of course, but only with the end goal in sight. Hope is always the most important thing; people must always strive for hope in all they do…’

Shoma stared at the radio like it had performed some sort of magic trick; it took a moment for him to realise the driver had simply switched over to a news station. It was surreal, hearing Yuzuru’s voice from afar – the PR lilt only just masking the dusky magic Shoma had listened to as he drifted in and out of sleep whilst sprawling out in the garden. He wasn’t sure how it made him feel, only that it made him feel too much. He was briefly dislodged from the balm of home, unseated and sent tumbling onto rocks; the scenery drifting past the window was still safe and familiar, but so was the voice now making itself the soundtrack to the drive. It was a jarring sensation, a reminder that there was a time that would now always have to be known as the time _before_ – when Yuzuru was just a face from the newspapers, and Shoma would have hummed absently in vague agreement with the words on the radio before moving on with his day without giving them a second thought, and also a time which would become forever known as _after_ , because now he knew the picture behind the headline, the person behind the soundbite. The thought stirred things up inside his chest that he didn’t want to know were still there; a force of feeling beating against his ribs that he thought he had willed into passing. His taxi driver was nodding to himself, letting out a small sound of agreement at the words and flicking a glance at Shoma in his mirror.  
‘He is a wise boy,’ he remarked, and Shoma nodded uncomfortably. ‘Many of the younger generation in this country could learn from him: to be contributing members of society.’ The driver looked back at the road with a small huff. ‘This country. What will become of it if we are left with these grim, angry young people to fight the Grey Zones, if the wise ones like him are allowed to be shouted down.’ Shoma swallowed down the lump in his throat and turned his eyes back out of the window.  
‘He’s not that wise,’ he muttered to himself. ‘He plays his music too loud and he’s always dropping things. And he can’t kick without leaving a bruise.’ The taxi driver glanced back at him suspiciously, and Shoma forced a tight smile, pretending he hadn’t said a word. He turned his gaze back out of the window, staring intently at the passing traffic and pointedly ignoring the rest of the news report.

It was actually a relief to find he was the first of his family to make it home for the day; Shoma let out a soft sigh as his key clicked in the lock, his lips twitching up into a smile as he was greeted by the familiar scent of home. He dragged his cases into the middle of the living room and dumped them there, before wandering absently through the quiet; in the kitchen he found a note from his mother telling him what food she had left for him in the fridge and how long to heat it up for, but he was too worn out to bother, and instead he headed straight for his room, pulling the last of Yuzuru’s cookies – now half-crushed – from his jacket pocket and breaking off a piece, trailing crumbs after him as he went.

His room looked as though he’d only been out as far as the shops or a day of lectures, the only notable difference being that there was slightly less stuff cluttering up the space. His bed was neatly made, there was no nest of chargers on his bedside table and it was only Itsuki’s books and games strewn across the no-man’s-land between their beds, but there was still a heap of Shoma’s schoolbooks on the desk under the window, and a mess of old clothes poking out from under his bed, the sheets still smelt of the same fabric softener they had for as long as he could remember and the empty house still made the same soft cracks and creaks. Shoma lay on his back and gazed up at the ceiling, listening to the quiet and appreciating how familiar it was; it filled him up with a sense of peace, calming his frayed edges and making it easier to sort through the noise of his thoughts. A car drove by somewhere outside, but there were no hollering seagulls, and Shoma couldn’t feel any magical static in the air. Home enveloped him, soothed every raw nerve ending and quieted his doubts – he knew the totality of the feeling wouldn’t last, knew that when the jetlag and the novelty wore off the questions would find their way back in, fussing around him every time he closed his eyes. But for now he was safe. It was just another Friday at home with nothing to do but rest and wait for his family to get back and disrupt the stillness. He was back to being just Shoma again – like it was before, when being Shoma simply meant he was yet another university kid with no real responsibilities, a fondness for sleep and a medium-to-strong addiction to his games. Before being Shoma meant carrying something boundless and golden in his chest. Before it meant knowing secrets and stories and how to read through Grey Zone reports, before it meant being the quiet, calm new face in the corner of a hundred press photographs or the vaguely bobbing head at a meet and greet. That was before Yuzuru had made being Shoma anything more; before he had taught him that his skin actually fitted him and there were places other than home where he could belong. Before sunlight and symbolism and shared destinies. Before Singapore’s skyline and the taste of marshmallows. Before. Just…before.

Shoma risked closing his eyes – now it was the time after, and there were promises he had to keep. He reached out oh-so-hesitantly, just to see if the feeling was still there, just to make sure he still knew how – and, sure enough, somewhere out in the distance, he felt the smallest spark of lightning reaching back, quiet and quick and perfunctory, a reply and little else. Something which had once communicated so much between them was reduced to a simple signalling tool, an exercise in call and response. Shoma could feel every mile stretching out between them, but he didn’t dare throw more power into the exercise, for fear he’d just keep going and not stop. Shoma blinked his eyes open and blew out a breath. It was too much to unpick how any of this made him feel; all his emotions were in conflict with each other and he was too tired to think through any of it logically. It was different, life without constant thunderstorms, but it was what he had once been used to – he could learn to be used to it again.

When Shoma next opened his eyes the sun was low in the sky, dense orange light setting in over the tops of the buildings; the sky was grey-pink and thick with mounds of cloud, the room around him shadowy and dim, and he felt disorientated by the heaviness of it, his head muggy from his nap. It was the sound of the front door slamming closed which had woken him, and he listened as someone made their way through the house, closing his eyes again for a few moments and paying attention to the footsteps as they followed the path of bags and clothes and cookie crumbs which Shoma had left behind. It made him smile to realise he knew that door-slam, even recognised the way the person moved – the sound of Itsuki coming home from school was something oddly powerful, a memory which clicked something into place inside him and brought with it a hundred more memories and emotions that briefly cooled the stuffy air of the bedroom and made Shoma feel a little more alert. It was home and normality and everything familiar and safe; something completely ordinary that he hadn’t thought to miss, but now it was back he ached for it, wanted to hear it over and over again.

Shoma sighed deeply, sinking back against the sheets and listening to the footsteps getting closer, waiting for the inevitable moment. And then finally it came; the door opened and Itsuki threw down his stuff on his bed, crossing over to Shoma’s side of the room without hesitation or surprise, something quietly enthusiastic humming under the usual burr of his energy. For a moment he hovered by the bed before letting out a small sigh and sitting down next to Shoma with more force than necessary, and Shoma let himself bounce slightly against the mattress, opening one eye and blinking against the poor light. Itsuki’s lips twisted into a small, wonky smile that he tried to fight for a beat before he rolled his eyes and flopped down to lie next to him the way he had a hundred times when they were growing up. The two of them were different, in so many ways, but they had always understood each other on a deep, instinctive level, had always been good at playing their parts in each other’s lives, never needing to second-guess their behaviour or check their words; Shoma had watched his friends’ siblings fuss and fight and vie for different roles in their families as they grew older, but he and Itsuki had never felt a moment of doubt in who they were to each other, had always been comfortable to ignore the stereotypes of younger and older, for the most part, in favour of simply being themselves. And Itsuki being by his side again felt like the final piece, like what he had been needing to quiet the last of his doubts; it was a homecoming within a homecoming to lie side-by-side with him like this, gazing at the ceiling together in silence, and comforting reassurance that Itsuki had saved a space for Shoma in the safety of their little world of two.

‘So…Superpower Boy is making headlines again,’ Itsuki said at last, his voice soft but matter-of-fact, and Shoma closed his eyes, letting out a small hum of agreement into the silence. There was a long pause, and Shoma could tell Itsuki was looking at him, studying him for clues – he couldn’t bring himself to mind. ‘He didn’t look as bright today, you know?’ Itsuki added at last, sounding somewhat reluctant, and Shoma glanced across at him. Itsuki shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I thought you should know. Since…I know you won’t watch the reports.’ Itsuki turned his eyes down in an uncharacteristic show of reticence and Shoma nudged him pointedly, provoking a soft, annoyed little puff of breath. ‘He was fighting through it, ok? I could just…I could tell he was fighting. That’s all.’ Itsuki sighed, looking back at Shoma and pulling a face. ‘I don’t know him like you do, though; he was probably just tired.’ Itsuki looked down again, and Shoma took the opportunity to study him properly; he was still in his school uniform, his shirt half-rumpled and his hair a mess, and in the half-light he actually looked like the younger brother for once, something soft and diffident in the way he couldn’t meet Shoma’s eyes. Shoma nodded vaguely and bit his lip, turning his eyes back up to the ceiling with a sigh.  
‘Yeah. That’s probably it. He hasn’t had much time for sleep lately,’ he murmured, swallowing down the lump in his throat and pretending his ribcage hadn’t gone painfully tight. ‘He’ll have been doing practice questions all night. And…with time zones and everything…his press call was probably stupidly early.’ He shrugged vaguely, pulling a face and closing his eyes in an effort to hide the hurt he knew his brother would see there.

There was a beat of silence, and then Itsuki shifted ever so slightly; Shoma felt him nudge his side gently and he glanced across. Itsuki had turned his head, tipping it up just a little to better meet his gaze, his dark eyes glimmering and kind, and for a moment his expression said more than words could. It almost hurt more than the talking.  
‘I’m sorry, Sho,’ Itsuki whispered, rough but so earnest that Shoma had to close his eyes.  
‘Yeah. Me too.’ An almost-smile touched his lips. ‘But thank you anyway. You know…for not saying “I told you so”.’ Itsuki’s eyes sparkled, and he pulled a face, elbowing him again.  
‘Hey, I haven’t said it _yet_. I could still change my mind.’ Shoma smirked, elbowing him back and rolling his eyes.  
‘You were so nearly a good brother for, like, a second.’  
‘Shut up: you love me.’  
‘I _tolerate_ you.’  
‘Yeah, and to you? Tolerate means love.’ Itsuki huffed, resting his hands on his stomach and gazing up at the ceiling, his lips twisting into a thoughtful pout. ‘So…how bad does it suck? Like…one to ten?’ Shoma couldn’t help but laugh, the sound hoarse and clipped.  
‘Ten. _Thousand_ ,’ he admitted with a groan, and Itsuki laughed, sympathetic rather than unkind. ‘I miss him. And I don’t want to.’ He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut for a beat. ‘But I can still feel him, right here,’ he murmured, touching his hand to the point in the centre of his chest where the dim pulse of Yuzuru’s lightning still lingered, faintly. ‘And I want that part too much.’ Itsuki let out a faint hum; soft and kind, a sound that was made not to reassure or dismiss or attempt to solve, but simply to show solidarity.

They lapsed into a heavy silence; there was an intense ache of feeling inside Shoma’s chest, but Itsuki made it seem manageable somehow, minimizing the awful the way he had ever since they were kids. Shoma remembered the memory he had conjured in the garden’s pond – Itsuki’s stubby arms wrapping around him in blind, unquestioning support. Some things had changed: Itsuki was taller than him now, had learned that it was better to simply keep him company rather than trying to force affection on him and had taken to doing most of his sparring with words rather than pillows. But the two of them were as close as they had ever been – the miles and phone screen pixels hadn’t diminished one ounce of what they shared, and that was a reassurance Shoma had desperately needed. Because he had been gripped by several moments of blind, panicked fear since he had made his decision to return, an unfounded worry frequently seizing him that the pieces might not connect any longer, that he’d given up something he had never wanted to lose. But Itsuki’s silent presence at his side was as steady and as easy as it had always been, proof that Shoma could do all the changing he liked and still fit right back where he belonged.

‘What’s it like?’ Itsuki asked suddenly, his voice tired and gentle as he shifted to rest his head against Shoma’s shoulder with sigh. Shoma twisted slightly, glancing down at him with a frown, and Itsuki shrugged, yawning. ‘The Foundation: what’s it really like?’ Shoma smiled, letting out a faint laugh and resting his head on top of Itsuki’s with a thoughtful hum.  
‘I don’t know – surreal, I guess?’ He sighed, sinking back against the mattress and closing his eyes as he considered the question more deeply. ‘It hums. All the time. Like the faintest buzz in the back of your head. And the air is just different there, like the whole place is alive and glowing.’ Shoma let himself remember his first night, sitting in the courtyard under the inky sky. ‘The sun rises in pastels and sets in fire, and when it rains the tops of the buildings disappear inside the clouds. It’s on the raggediest cliff you’ve ever seen in your life, and even on the calmest day there is always a breeze in the trees, like the leaves are whispering.’ Shoma paused for a moment, breathing in deeply. ‘At night it feels like maybe it’s floating off into the stars, and in the daylight it’s as if it’s drifting on the sea – and as soon as you get outside the gates, you start to feel like maybe you imagined it after all, like maybe it really was just a dream.’  
‘But it’s not, though. It matters too much for that,’ Itsuki remarked idly, and Shoma quirked any eyebrow at him.  
‘Says the one who’s never even been there,’ he remarked archly, and Itsuki pulled a face.  
‘I don’t need to go there to know it’s real,’ he replied petulantly, burrowing a little closer to Shoma – and for a moment it was like they were kids again, before Shoma had lost his height advantage and Itsuki had discovered sarcasm. ‘It’s real enough to matter to you, even though you wish it didn’t,’ Itsuki pointed out more quietly then. ‘And…it’s real enough to have left a mark. You can pretend all you want but…it changed something. It changed you; you’ve come back…Shoma…but…more.’ Shoma glanced down at him, eyelids heavy but his eyes shining in the shifting light. Itsuki avoided his gaze, looking down and playing with the ends of his sleeves. ‘I like it, I just…didn’t expect it. You’ve been…just Sho to me for as long as I can remember. I never really thought about you having powers. Because you were just my big brother and it didn’t mean anything. But…now I get just how much it means. And how much a part of you it really is. Now I get that you’re not _just_ my big brother anymore…you’re part of…something bigger. And it’s amazing…how well that suits you. But I guess I just-’  
‘Don’t, ok?’ Shoma cut him off with an elbow to the side and Itsuki looked up at him instantly. Shoma smiled slightly, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I’m your brother first, ok? No matter what else changes. Power doesn’t define me, it’s just…something I understand more now, I guess. Maybe I’ve realised it’s not…bigger than me after all. Maybe I’m starting to think it’s something I can handle, something I was built for…something that really is mine. But I still don’t know if I can ever be sure enough of my power to do the things people would expect me to. If they knew everything, I mean. And I don’t understand how to give boundaries and purpose to something that’s always just…happened. Yuzu has fought for everything he’s ever achieved. But me? It was always just…there, if I needed it. And sometimes when I didn’t. I still feel like maybe it wasn’t meant for me – even now, even though I’ve seen how much more I can do. I don’t think I can be the person the Foundation needs me to be when there’s still that doubt in there…they need someone who knows exactly what they can do…someone who knows they can do it.’ Shoma closed his eyes again, swallowing down the lump in his throat and smiling slightly when Itsuki nudged against him just a little, a small reminder he was still listening. ‘I guess the Foundation taught me a lot about using my power,’ Shoma sighed. ‘Yuzu taught me a lot more about what it actually means to me, though. He almost made me think…he almost made me think it was ok. To be raw. Uncontrolled.’ He closed his eyes tightly. ‘He made infinite seem less challenging than it is, somehow.’

Itsuki blew out a breath and shifted just a little, somehow managing to pierce the atmosphere instantly with a simple hum.  
‘So…is Daisuke Takahashi as cool as he looks on TV? Is Javier Fernandez really that charismatic? Would Brian Orser look at me in that suspicious way all the teachers at school do when they realise I’m your brother?’ Itsuki’s eyes were sleepy but his voice was light and teasing, a determination in his tone to not let Shoma get dragged down by overthinking and melancholy on his first night back, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes.  
‘Everyone looks at us that way when we tell them we’re brothers.’  
‘Why is that? Don’t we pretty much look alike?’  
‘I think it’s cancelled out by how loud you are,’ Shoma smirked, and Itsuki wrinkled his nose, jabbing him below the ribs with his elbow.  
‘Or maybe by how obnoxious you are,’ he whined. Shoma shot him a sly, amused glance and Itsuki stuck his tongue out at him, rolling his eyes. ‘Shut up and stop changing the subject.’ He resettled himself so he was pressed more closely to Shoma’s side, folding his arms across his stomach with a sigh. ‘Come on. Talk to me. Tell me stories. What are they like? The other people with powers? What are they like to be around?’ Shoma hummed, taking a moment to consider the question.  
‘Every group is different, I guess,’ he said with a lopsided smile, and Itsuki quirked an eyebrow curiously. ‘We do sessions in power classifications sometimes, other times it’s mixed – you sort of end up drifting between these same circles of people though, your go-to people, you know? And most of the time, we end up in our teams. Thursdays are the only day, officially, that we get split like that, but…everyone’s teams are tight knit, they find each other anyway. Maybe because it makes home seem less far away, I guess.’  
‘And you’re, what? Team Misanthrope?’ Itsuki queried with bratty glee, and Shoma pulled a face at him, flicking his temple and rolling his eyes.  
‘Team _Japan_ , Genius,’ he muttered, shaking his head, and Itsuki shot him a sly smile.  
‘What? I had to ask.’ He let out a sigh then, settling back against Shoma’s shoulder with a slight pout. ‘You talked about Team Japan a lot; you get on with them, right?’ Shoma smiled lopsidedly.  
‘They’re the worst,’ he said with a soft laugh. ‘They’re insufferable and crazy and the most loyal people you will ever meet…and with them you can never get left behind, because everyone treats everyone else like family and there’s no such thing as “not talking about it”…which should be awful but…it’s actually not. And it’s always fun, even if the laughter ends up being at your expense.’ Shoma let out a long breath, his expression sobering as he allowed himself the smallest moment of missing them – missing their chaos and their too-loud voices and the way there was always someone prepared to take on the trouble that came along with being friends with him. ‘But every team is different, you know? Like…Team Italy are wild and fun, but really tight-knit, and Team Russia look fearsome but are the biggest idiots once you get to know them. Team Canada are always hugging. Team USA never shut up and want to be friends with everyone, whether everyone wants them or not. Team France can’t sit still to save their lives and are always joking around. But…none of it even matters, I guess, because…we all end up playing dumb games together with the Shibutanis in the end anyway. Every _thing_ at the Foundation is always being split into these lines and categories…and every _one_ at the Foundation is always breaking those borders down and making the best mess of things.’ Itsuki shot him a sidelong glance.  
‘That sounds like your worst nightmare, Sho,’ he smirked, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Shut up,’ he said, elbowing Itsuki in his side. ‘It’s…a lot. And maybe I don’t even understand what’s happening half the time. But there’s always someone to take you out of it when you need. And it’s still kind of nice…to be surrounded by people you have something so…indefinable in common with, you know? And besides: it’s different at the Foundation. Like normal rules don’t even apply and you just…go with it. You’re all in this weird bubble a million miles away from home and…it could be awful, if you let it. So no one really does. Not for long. And that’s what the mentors are for anyway…Mihoko could convince anyone everything’s going to be ok just by smiling, probably. Even when you feel like the noise is too much, she talks and makes it all seem…simple. She didn’t even flinch when I told her I wanted to come home, she just nodded and said…ok.’  
‘Probably because you’re the biggest mess she ever encountered and she couldn’t wait to get rid of you.’  
‘Please; I’m her favourite, ok?’  
‘I guess you had to be a favourite of somebody someday.’  
‘I don’t know why I even talk to you,’ Shoma muttered with a reluctant smile, and Itsuki pulled a face at him, rolling his eyes.

When Itsuki stayed quiet, Shoma glanced down at him curiously, taking a moment to try and judge the tired, solemn expression on his face and the curious look in his eyes. Shoma could see him chewing at his lip, his brow furrowed just a little as he stared resolutely upward. It wasn’t an expression he often saw on his brother’s face; Itsuki rarely did hesitation or indecision, choosing instead to plough on through with little regard for tact or consequences. He was confident and brash and certain, wonderfully bold and stupidly optimistic about his ability to talk his way out of trouble – but he was also always careful of Shoma’s feelings, always sensitive to his gentler spirit and cautious of the fine line between offering advice and pushing too hard. ‘Ask. Whatever it is? Just ask. I can’t deal with you being tactful, it feels too…unnatural, ok?’ Shoma sighed, and Itsuki looked up at him, eyes slightly narrowed as he tried to read his face. He wet his lips.  
‘I guess I was just wondering…what Yuzuru’s like.’ The question was soft and tentative, and Shoma blinked in surprise, searching his brother’s expression for some sign he was being flippant. But there was something solemn in Itsuki’s face and it made Shoma feel suddenly tense and exposed.  
‘You’ve talked to him – you know what he’s like,’ he whispered, quick and dismissive as he looked away, his whole face twitching into a tight, tense expression as he began to bite at his cheek. Itsuki nudged him, somehow concerned and stubborn at the same time, and Shoma swallowed hard, closing his eyes. ‘Itsuki, you know. Please don’t do this.’  
‘I know him through a screen, Shoma. Not like you know him. I just…want to know what you know. So…tell me? Maybe?’

Itsuki could’ve asked him about anyone. Daisuke was the Artist the two of them had been amazed by on the television growing up, Brian was the man whose vision their parents discussed over dinner like they knew him personally, Javier was the one who had been sent on a PR tour of Japan once which had included a brief stop at their school. Shoma could tell stories about any of them without feeling like the air was being pulled from his lungs – could think of them without feeling like he was falling and could talk about them without thunder creeping up to the surface of his skin. But Itsuki knew this. And that was why it was Yuzuru he was the most curious about – because he knew he was the one person at the Foundation who had managed to get into Shoma’s veins and pull his sunlight to the surface, the one person whose name Shoma could barely even say for fear of losing all his grip on the path he had chosen.  
‘He’s already just a story I tell at sunset, huh,’ Shoma whispered under his breath, and when Itsuki frowned up at him he shrugged dismissively. ‘It’s nothing…just…something Yuzu said that I didn’t…I didn’t want to think about again.’

Shoma shook his head and swallowed down the crack in his voice, his features pinching into a frown. Yuzuru. Where did he even start to answer? He was the most unknown quantity of all to the rest of the world, but the one person at the Foundation about whom Shoma could give details for days. Itsuki was bright and curious and persistent; he wouldn’t settle for anything less than the most difficult questions and he wouldn’t pretend not to see through any half-answers – but Shoma didn’t know if he’d be able to stop talking once he’d started, and he wasn’t sure if Itsuki had really bargained for that. ‘Yuzu is…’ Shoma closed his eyes and drew as much air into his lungs as he could, tried to savour the familiar smell of home and the feeling of his own covers beneath him. Tried not to see Yuzuru, wet-haired and smiling brokenly, petals shedding off his outline in waterfalls. ‘Yuzu is all banged up elbows and longing. Perpetual turbulence. He’s determination and sweetness and calculations, and when he laughs it’s like it’ll never stop…and you don’t even want it to. He’s petals and moonlight and a haunted house; he’s contradictions and dug-in heels. His heart’s made of eggshell but his soul is all steel, and nothing about him should make any sense…but you wouldn’t say any of it didn’t belong, because he wears it too well. He’s unreal…but at the same time…there is no one more human than him. No one better at _being_ human than him. And when he talks…you forget every myth and photograph and strand of hearsay. Because he’s just Yuzu. And he’s an idiot. And he’s ridiculous. And he’s powerful but…he doesn’t see that as something which sets him apart…he’s too interested in always learning more and working harder. He’s fascinated by everything and everyone.’ Shoma let out a deep sigh. ‘And besides – the full force of his attention is like a power all of its own.’ He swallowed, shaking his head slightly and blinking his eyes open, taking a moment to adjust to the half-light. ‘He’s magic. The ordinary and the extraordinary kind. But most importantly…he’s just…a force of nature. He just…is. He’s Yuzu and he’s…the only one.’ Shoma’s smile was small and devastated, but he couldn’t help it; he felt his bottom lip crack a little with it and he sucked at the sore spot. ‘But he makes you feel like you’re the only one too – because that’s the way he cares about things: without reservation. With the same fire he fights for the world, you know he will fight for you too, even if all he’s fighting for is to make you feel…heard, for an hour or two.’

There was a pause, and then Itsuki rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and taking a moment to study Shoma’s face. The quiet seemed to last forever and Shoma shrank back from it a little, his face pinched and tense and his eyes still stinging with unshed tears.  
‘That sounds like a lot to give up, Sho,’ Itsuki murmured, and Shoma nodded, reluctant but resigned as he stared determinedly up at the ceiling.  
‘Maybe it is. But I don’t have a choice…if I give up the Foundation then I give up him. And I have to give him up anyway…I’m not going to be another person that just takes their piece they need from him then turns the rest away. He’s all or nothing. And I…I have to pick nothing, so he doesn’t waste his energy trying to give something I can’t take.’ Shoma sniffed. ‘I was always going to have to give it up some day, even if I stayed there. His focus. His closeness. His midnights. They were never going to be mine to keep. I’d rather give them up on my own terms, whilst I can still face it. Whilst I know I can still make it out the other side.’ He swallowed down the ball of emotion forming in his chest, pushed it back and buried it, forcing it to wait until later, after Itsuki had fallen asleep and Shoma could cry without scaring him. ‘Yuzu is dusk and summer – and they’re beautiful things, you know? But half their power, half their wonder…it lies in the fact they end. And so will he.’  
‘I thought you always loved the dusk,’ Itsuki pointed out, tentative and gentle, and Shoma shot him a sad half-smile.  
‘You’re one of two people on the planet who know that,’ he admitted. Itsuki’s lips curved up at one corner, and he shook his head slightly.  
‘Well I wonder who the other one could be,’ he muttered archly, smacking Shoma’s shoulder lightly, and Shoma laughed despite himself. ‘But, Sho…seriously: seasons change, light fades. But the world keeps turning, you know? These things do come around again. The whole planet’s going round in a circle. Things change but there are constants too.’  
‘Maybe. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same sunset twice. No summer is ever like the last.’ Shoma tasted blood on his tongue and winced, pursing his lips. ‘I don’t want to look at the sunset anymore, I don’t want to see the colours turning everything into memories. So I’ll take the loss in stages – I’ll lose these moments now in exchange for surviving later. I’m going to learn to miss him. And then, eventually, when I’ve lived with that feeling long enough, I’m going to learn to forget. It’s not fair…especially not on him. But I don’t know how else I’m supposed to keep breathing when his summer finally ends. I need to face the winter; it’s inevitable and I need to accept that.’

Itsuki let out a short, sharp huff of breath, dropping back down to lie beside Shoma with just enough force to make Shoma’s head bounce against the bed; it was deliberately petulant, but also somehow resigned, like he understood but didn’t want to, and it effectively pierced the heaviness of the air between them, forcing a small smirk out of Shoma. ‘Sorry for ruining your shot at getting him to do your maths homework for you,’ he offered into the terse silence, and Itsuki scrunched up his face guiltily.  
‘Actually…’ he began. Shoma raised his eyebrows. ‘He…he kind of already helped me with that,’ Itsuki admitted slowly, glancing up into Shoma’s mildly surprised face with a sheepish grin. ‘He messaged me after you left. I swear I didn’t bug him for it or anything – he just replied to a message I’d sent a few days before, without even breaking from the conversation. When I asked why he was being nice to me he just asked what reason there was for him not to be, then told me if I ever needed anything he was still there. He said he wouldn’t stop looking out for me just because you weren’t around anymore. I was going to tell him not to worry about it but…then he sent me this really detailed explanation about the stuff I’d been stuck on all week and…it was kind of the nicest thing someone I didn’t even know properly has ever done for me so…I just said thank you. And told him we were cool.’ Itsuki looked at Shoma pleadingly. ‘Did I screw up? You want me to delete his number after all? Because I will if that’s what you want I just…he so obviously wasn’t going to put me in the middle by asking about you, you know? All he said was that he still had faith in you to know who was worthy of his trust, and you trust me so…that was enough reason for him to trust me too. And then he just…started talking about maths…like he actually cared about my problems even though he’s got a million other things on his mind.’ Shoma smiled slightly, letting out a soft huff of laughter and avoiding Itsuki’s eyes.  
‘You wanted to know what Yuzu’s like?’ he asked tightly. Itsuki frowned and Shoma shot him a sidelong glance, his lips curving up into a wry smile. ‘ _That’s_ what Yuzu’s like. It is just…so completely him.’ He swallowed, closing his eyes again. ‘And it _sucks_. It sucks because he is just…so…Yuzu. You can’t replace that. You just have to leave the gap there and accept that the absence is part of you now. He is so much…it wouldn’t be doing him justice if forgetting came easily.’ Shoma closed his eyes again. It hurt, the wound suddenly raw and the acid rising in his throat – he had no idea how to be certain of a choice that would probably always sting exactly this much, but he wanted to at least learn to live with it, to go on like the ache didn’t touch him. Silently Itsuki shifted closer, wrapping his arm around him and hugging him more fiercely than he had since they were children. And Shoma let him, not seeing any point in trying to pretend he was fine; it wasn’t as if he needed to, not with Itsuki, not now he was home. He swallowed hard and let himself let go, clinging on to Itsuki like he could crush the weight of Yuzuru’s absence out of him, wring every trace of the memories out of his skin; a tear escaped, rolling down his cheek, and Itsuki reached up to swipe it clumsily away for him.

Shoma wasn’t sure how long they lay there like that before they fell asleep; he felt himself drifting but fought closing his eyes for as long as he could, determined to appreciate this small window of time before he had to face the road he had chosen. It was a heavy sort of peace, thick and full of shadows and threads of things which weren’t yet settled, but there was something safe in it all the same, something infinitely protective in the fierceness of Itsuki’s grip and the wordlessness of his sympathy. Lying on his bed with Itsuki fidgety and restless beside him was something so comfortably familiar he could feel his whole body sink back into it, muscle memory and certainty taking over. It was a place he belonged, somewhere he knew he could always fit no matter what else changed – it felt like something which would actually still be there when he woke up, real and mundane and grounded. It had roots, and Shoma could feel them growing back into place around him; there were no petals and no falling feathers, just earth and the low weight of familiarity. It didn’t solve anything, but there was something infinite and unconditional about it that he needed; nothing felt as forgiving as home, as his family.

They were woken by the harsh yellow glow of the bedroom light being flicked on, both of them letting out matching groans of complaint as they flinched at the sudden brightness assaulting their senses. Shoma rubbed at his eyes and pushed Itsuki off him, and Itsuki pushed back, whining and grumpy.  
‘I see it’s like you never left us, huh?’ Shoma lifted his head up at the sound of his mother’s voice, squinting over at her in mild bewilderment as he took a moment to process where he was. Beside him Itsuki huffed, sitting up.  
‘Mum, turn the light off, it’s too bright,’ he complained.  
‘And let you both fall back asleep? I don’t think so. Your father is making dinner and I want you both looking _alive_ when you come to the table,’ their mother replied, folding her arms. ‘Itsuki, out of your uniform and put your school bags away. Shoma: your suitcases are in the middle of my living room and you left a trail of crumbs through the house…you think maybe we could do something about this? Something sensible, like cleaning up and putting things away?’  
‘Mum,’ Shoma moaned, still rubbing his eyes and pushing his hair out of his face with a huff as he slowly sat up. ‘You could just say you missed me like a normal parent.’  
‘Of course I missed you: you are my first born, Shoma. I can be happy to have you home and still know you are a nightmare, though, and my home shouldn’t have to pay the price for having you back.’

Shoma blinked up at her for a moment, dazed and only half taking in what she was saying, and after a second she cracked, letting out a soft, despairing sigh that was almost a laugh. She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up before quickly crossing the room and pulling Shoma into a fierce hug, not giving him any chance to put up a fight, his arms flopping uselessly at his sides as she squeezed him tightly. He let out a soft yelp of surprise at the sudden intrusion, and Itsuki sniggered.  
‘Careful what you wish for, Sho.’  
‘Just because you’re jealous I’m the favourite,’ Shoma shot back, flailing out a hand to smack at his brother, who ducked out of the way with a shameless laugh.  
‘Please, you’re not the favourite – you’re the one who left two giant suitcases in the middle of the front room for everyone to trip over.’  
‘You see where you put your cases after a day of flying, huh?’  
‘Probably somewhere more sensible than you.’  
‘Says the person who lost his kit bag because he put it in someone else’s locker.’  
‘You once managed to take an empty backpack to school, Sho. Even though all your books were literally right next to it when you picked it up.’  
‘I was tired! And you watched me do it and didn’t say anything!’  
‘Boys,’ their mother interrupted with a heavy sigh, releasing Shoma slowly and looking between the two of them with a mixture of fondness and despair. ‘Can you two please just be good for five minutes? Let me _enjoy_ having both of my children home instead of making me wonder why I put up with you at all?’ Shoma and Itsuki exchanged a glance, smothering smiles before looking back at their mother with amused, only mildly chagrined expressions.  
‘But then you wouldn’t really be getting the full experience of having both of us home, right?’ Itsuki offered. Shoma pursed his lips and tried not to laugh.  
‘Out of your uniform, tidy your bags and remember who decides how the chores are shared out between you and your brother, huh?’ their mother told Itsuki wearily, before glancing back at Shoma. ‘We missed you,’ she added more softly then, an undercurrent of feeling in her words that made Shoma have to work hard not to smile.  
‘Mum, don’t go all soft on me,’ he said, pulling a face, and his mother laughed.  
‘Make the most of it whilst it lasts, ok?’ she smiled wryly, leaning in for another tight hug that Shoma smiled into despite himself. ‘Your father is cooking your favourite and I promise I will try not to ask you a million questions whilst we eat.’  
‘Sure, Mum; we both know that’s going to last about five minutes,’ Shoma mumbled, giving her a small, grateful squeeze.  
‘When did Dad get home anyway?’ Itsuki asked through a yawn, and their mother sat back, shaking her head at the two of them slightly.  
‘You two were really out of, huh?’ she asked, giving a small roll of her eyes. ‘He came back about an hour ago; he found you both asleep in here but he said he didn’t have the heart to ruin the moment by waking you – told me he wasn’t sure how long the peace would last and we should make the most of it.’ She shrugged. ‘Me? I only just got here, and I wanted to see your face properly, in the light.’ She pinched Shoma’s cheek and he wrinkled his nose, smacking Itsuki when he spluttered out a laugh. ‘I was late home from my friend’s house; she wouldn’t stop asking me questions – she’s seen my eldest on the news alongside Yuzuru Hanyu and she is curious. Then I had to tell her I needed to go because that same boy was due home, and she couldn’t understand at all. But it’s not as if I could explain this to her – you didn’t really give me much to go on, Shoma. One minute you were happy and had made good friends and a role for yourself there – the next Mr. Orser is on the phone to me, thanking me for your hard work and asking about travel arrangements. It is strange, huh?’ When Shoma looked down her features knitted into vaguely concerned frown. ‘Did you fight with your friends? Did you and Hanyu fall out over something – maybe he didn’t like to share his spotlight with you? Or is this something else?’  
‘Wow,’ Itsuki said under his breath. ‘No questions didn’t even last ‘til we got to the dinner table.’ Shoma and their mother both glared at him and he grinned cheekily. ‘What? Just saying.’ He shrugged. ‘You really went in for the kill on that one, Mum: bold move _opening_ with the Yuzu questions – how you gonna answer, Sho?’ Itsuki’s eyes sparkled with mischief and Shoma shot him a warning look.  
‘Shut up now, or I spill _so many_ childhood secrets you’ll be grounded ‘til you’re forty.’ Itsuki pursued his lips and smothered a laugh, impish and unapologetic, but mercifully he didn’t say anything more.  
‘Well those are comforting words every parent loves to hear – I shall have a lot of fun wondering what secrets you are keeping, I’m sure,’ their mother put in with a resigned sigh. ‘Will you give me _something_ , at least? About your sudden change of heart on the Foundation? Some reason for you coming back to us here after things seemed to be going so well? I want to understand, Shoma. So I can be here for you if that’s what you need.’ Shoma turned to look back at her with a slight wince.  
‘Mum, I told you on the phone: it’s just…not for me. I admire what they’re doing but…I can’t keep up. It’s a lot and I’m not sure…I’m not sure my power is what they need. Or that their stage is what I need. That’s it. That’s the whole story.’  
‘But you and Yuzuru-’  
‘Yuzu is the most powerful person on the planet, in every way; he’ll be fine without me, better, probably. We didn’t fight, ok? It’s not…it’s not his fault. That I left. And he understands why I wanted to. Because he’s a good friend to me and he’s the least selfish person you’ll ever meet. He knew I wasn’t coping…and he’d rather I was happy.’ Shoma sighed heavily, and felt Itsuki nudge him in gentle support; he cast him a faint, grateful smile, and Itsuki smiled back, small and soft and more subtle than usual. Shoma looked back over at their mother tiredly, lifting one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. ‘Look, I get that people ask, but…you shouldn’t be talking to anyone about Yuzu, Mum: he’s really private and he hates taking so much attention away from the Foundation’s work.’ He pulled a face. ‘Actually, I don’t think you should be telling your friends anything about me being back either, just so you know; it’s not a good time for the bad press of a departure, and I don’t want to make Brian’s job any harder than it is. Yuzu needs him right now, and the whole Foundation needs for the drama in the media to just go away for a while.’  
‘Oh I know all of this, Shoma; Mr. Orser was very polite, but I could tell from how he spoke that he was doing you a great favour by letting you go, at great expense to himself, in many ways,’ his mother said, her expression turning a little sad for a moment as she shook her head. ‘He thinks highly of you and would rather not be letting you go at all, never mind dealing with the extra effort that keeping it out of the headlines will require – but it sounded to me like someone somewhere must have put in a good word with him, because he was willing to go to a lot of trouble for you, and he said he would do everything in his power to protect you from any fallout. He also said he hoped you might even change your mind one day – I told him how stubborn you are, but he said he still had hope all the same, said he had experience with stubborn and knew it also sometimes could be something fierce. He wants to keep you on their list for as long as he can before admitting defeat; that is a commitment, isn’t it? I’m not sure I would be so kind to someone creating so much paperwork for me, but this is how it is. He assured me it was because of what he saw in you, but I say there was more there, something he wasn’t telling me.’ Shoma looked down, biting at his lip and trying not to speculate on what Brian’s motives were; Yuzuru’s name loomed large at the back of his mind, but Brian was capable of kindness of his own accord, and he and Tracy had both been warm and understanding when he had explained his decision to them. ‘But you know, Shoma, I’m going to have to tell people something some time…press or not, it is something which cannot be ignored indefinitely. People ask me questions – and what am I supposed to do, huh? I will be as vague as I can, but at some point this will become an unavoidable truth: you are home and you are staying. And that is how it is, right?’ Shoma nodded vaguely, not meeting her eyes, and she sighed. ‘Then…I will have to say something to someone someday, Shoma. Simple as that.’  
‘If it helps? I really don’t think it was in Sho’s plans to leave the house all the much – he could probably go weeks without anyone finding out he’s back,’ Itsuki put in, and Shoma was grateful at his attempt to soften the blow of their mother’s questions.  
‘Yes, well, that’s another matter,’ their mother nodded, leaning in to take Shoma’s chin in her hand and dipping her head to meet his eyes. ‘At some point? We are going to need to talk about just what exactly _is_ in your plans, hmm?’ Her gaze was piercing and Shoma winced, groaning softly and wrinkling his nose; his mother’s expression softened just a little and she shook her head, reaching up to push his hair out of his face, her fingers tender and soothing as she touched them to his cheek with a small smile. ‘Fine, fine. You’re right: not tonight, hey? Tonight we have a family meal and be happy to all be together again.’ She straightened, slapping her hands decisively on her knees and looking between Shoma and Itsuki with a mixture of determination and affection. ‘Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes: I want you both changed and with your things put away, and I expect you to lay the table together when you’re done, ok?’  
‘Yes, Mum,’ Itsuki and Shoma sighed in dutiful unison, and their mother smiled brightly, getting to her feet with a satisfied nod.  
‘Good boys. Shoma – wash your face before you come down, you look like you have been travelling all week.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘I kind of have been, Mum,’ he muttered, before quickly putting his hands up in surrender when his mother shot him a warning look over her shoulder. ‘Fine. I will pretend to not be half-dead, but I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep at the table,’ he whined, collapsing back onto the bed and elbowing Itsuki when he laughed.  
‘Don’t fall asleep again, Shoma, or I will have your brother drag you from that bed.’ Shoma groaned, throwing his arm over his face as Itsuki laughed harder.

‘So…still sure you made the right choice coming home?’ Itsuki asked as their mother shut the door behind her, and Shoma shifted slightly, looking up at him from under his elbow.  
‘Please, you think Team Japan haven’t tried to physically drag me out of a nap before?’ he huffed. ‘Yuzu once rolled me up in my duvet and dumped me inside my own suitcase because I wouldn’t finish my packing.’  
‘I can’t imagine Yuzuru Hanyu dumping anyone in a suitcase,’ Itsuki remarked idly, and Shoma laughed, dry and quiet, pushing himself up on his elbows.  
‘Well imagine it. He’s polite and sweet on the surface, but once he’s decided you’re his friend? Like _really_ his friend? He’s one of the whiniest, most annoying human beings you will ever meet.’ Itsuki smirked, nodding slowly.  
‘You two must be two peas in a pod then, huh?’ Shoma paused, slowly turning to look up at his brother with a glower.  
‘Itsuki?’  
‘Hmm?’ Itsuki smiled, all faux-innocence and sparkling eyes, and Shoma narrowed his eyes.  
‘Please shut up.’ Itsuki pulled a face.  
‘I was only telling the truth.’

Shoma gave Itsuki a half-hearted shove and he grinned at him, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up from the bed. Shoma flopped back against the mattress with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes; he was still exhausted and confused and a hundred other things, but he couldn’t help but smile slightly as he listened to the familiar sound of his brother clumping around their bedroom gracelessly, and the distant noise of pots and pans being banged about in the kitchen, the soundtrack of home that simply couldn’t be replicated in the high, unearthly skyscrapers of the Foundation.  
‘Hey, Sho,’ Itsuki’s voice interrupted Shoma’s thoughts, and he opened his eyes blearily, squinting across to where his brother was standing in the doorway. ‘You know…I’m not going to say I’m glad you’re home. Because I know how hard this has been on you…and I’m definitely not glad about that part…but…’ Itsuki glanced down, pulling a face and puffing out a breath. ‘It is nice to have you back,’ he mumbled, shrugging and looking up with a somewhat bashful smile. ‘I’ve missed you a lot, you know? And it’s just…nice to see your face again. Like…not through a screen.’ Shoma smiled – soft, full and quiet, his eyes shining even from under his heavy eyelids.  
‘Thanks,’ he whispered. ‘And…I’ve missed you too, you know? Like…a lot, honestly.’ Itsuki gave a small nod, rolling his eyes.  
‘You’d better have,’ he muttered, his smile wonky, and Shoma laughed.  
‘Let me guess: we never speak of this conversation again, right?’ he asked and Itsuki’s smile widened.  
‘Ah, you know me so well.’  
‘Well, duh: I’ve literally known you your whole life, Moron.’  
‘Careful who you call a moron, Moron: don’t make me make dinner uncomfortable for you tonight when Mum and Dad start asking about your best friend Yuzuru. I know _so much_ they don’t…like what it is you two really got up to when the cameras weren’t on, right?’ Shoma glowered and Itsuki laughed brightly, just managing to jump back and get the door closed in time before Shoma hurled a pillow at him. ‘You’d better pick that up before Mum sees it, Shoma!’ Itsuki yelled through the closed door, bright and gleeful, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile, falling back with a resigned sigh as Itsuki’s laughter echoed down the corridor.

For the first time in a long time, Shoma fell asleep that night without the help of lightning, focusing instead on the familiar sounds of traffic and the house settling in around him, Itsuki sighing into his pillow in the darkness on the other side of the room. He breathed in deeply and pretended the dull vibration of drums wasn’t still sitting there somewhere deep inside him, pretended not be aware of the faint threat of thunder connecting him to the human storm still out there on the other side of the world. Behind his closed eyelids, a haze of petals rained down incessantly, but he was too worn out to acknowledge them, and he was only too grateful to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Shoma was woken up too early by the sound of someone banging suitcases around somewhere near the end of his bed, loud and clumsy and unapologetic. He groaned, rolling over and squinting around in grumpy confusion, his eyelids sticking together and his brain not entirely catching up to his body. It took him a moment to figure out where he was, not quite processing for a second that this wasn’t a hotel room or the garden or his allotted bed in the Foundation’s residential block – this was home. _He was home_. He blinked, letting the realisation sink in; dust motes swirled in the pale, yellowish light which drifted in through the window, and everything smelt vaguely of burnt toast and their father’s preferred blend of coffee. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, feeling the covers crinkle around him and briefly enjoying the warmth of it. The morning light felt different on his skin to the way it did at the Foundation, and Itsuki didn’t flit around the room in the same light, whispering way Yuzuru did. No seabirds called to each other from a mist of cloud below him and no energy crackled in the air – the closest thing to the Foundation’s thrum of constant power was the low pulse of Yuzuru’s thunder, just there in the centre of his chest still, exactly where he’d left it. Shoma swallowed and quickly opened his eyes again, not letting himself hold on to the feeling. He was struck by the realisation he didn’t have anything in particular to get up for; it was freeing in some ways, knowing there was no bus to catch or presentation to grin and bear, but that also meant that no one was about to drag him down to a noisy Team Japan breakfast or badger him to revise press conference questions with them, there would be no laughing in the darkness of a starlit lecture hall and no pizza and games out on the playing field, and the power inside him had to return to being some aimless thing with no real sense or reason or place to go. A more hollow victory than he had expected; to be standing at the starting line again, with everything feeling just as it did before, but now with the knowledge that there had been a route to follow and people to run it with, all of whom were now off in the distance, too far away for him to catch up to. His weekend stretched out, freeform and full of glorious solitude – space to breathe and room to think. But his life beyond that stretched out the same way, and that lack of direction and clarity nagged at him. Walking away hadn’t changed the fact that there were shadows and ghosts and Grey Zones – it had only taken away the constant reminders and other people’s expectations. His own expectations of himself were another matter; he and Yuzuru weren’t so different after all, he realised with a grimace. He couldn’t deny that, with the weight of the world not even slightly on his shoulders anymore, it would almost certainly land entirely on Yuzuru’s shoulders instead.

Shoma lifted his head slightly, looking blearily over to his brother’s alarm clock and trying to make out the time with little success. It was too early to be awake, that much he was sure of; the film of light over the room was too soft and gentle, not nearly as stifling as it would’ve been if he’d managed to stay cocooned in his covers ‘til noon like he had hoped. Itsuki’s bed was unmade, piles of clothes strewn across it, and Itsuki himself was sitting at the foot of Shoma’s bed, Shoma’s two suitcases open in front of him. ‘…mine, mine…mine…probably not mine but I’m taking it…’ Shoma frowned, closing one eye and then the other and attempting to make sense of the blurry shape he vaguely recognised as his brother, who was kneeling between the two cases, rummaging shamelessly through the larger one with zero respect for Shoma’s property or privacy. ‘…Sho, why do you have, like, a small army of stuffed animals in here?’ Itsuki hadn’t even looked up from his rummaging to ask the question, somehow instinctively aware that Shoma was awake, and Shoma let out a small, exhausted huff, mildly irritated that he definitely wasn’t going to be allowed to close his eyes and go back to sleep. He pushed himself up just a little, blinking slowly and brushing his hair out of his face.  
‘Meet and greet gifts,’ he explained through a yawn. ‘I forgot to take them out before I left.’ Itsuki lobbed one at Shoma’s head and he let out a disgruntled groan, taking the hit before picking the small, round dog up from where it had landed and launching it straight back at Itsuki. He smiled in satisfaction as it bounced squarely off the back of his brother’s skull, causing him to yelp.  
‘What was that for?!’ Itsuki protested, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘You started it,’ he sulked, flopping back against his pillow with a sigh. ‘What are you doing anyway?’  
‘Going through your cases and taking back all the stuff you stole from me when you left,’ Itsuki shrugged, turning back to his rummaging and pulling out a tangled nest of charging cables, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the mess. ‘You know, I’m touched to be your style icon, Sho, but seriously…you took, like, half my clothes with you,’ he added, gesturing vaguely to the messy heaps of clothing spilling out from the cases, and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Shut up. Like we’ve known whose stuff was whose since you were, what, four?’  
‘ _I_ know. You just ignore it.’  
‘Please, like I’d go out dressing like you on purpose. Be grateful you were too young to remember the years when Mum dressed us in matching outfits every time we left the house, ok? Old ladies used to pinch our cheeks in public places, Itsuki. I’m still recovering from the humiliation.’ Itsuki glanced up at him, smirking wickedly. He was still in his pyjamas, his hair a dishevelled mess, but he seemed infinitely more awake than Shoma felt and it was tiring just to look at him.  
‘Old ladies still do pinch your cheeks, Sho,’ he smirked, and Shoma narrowed his eyes.  
‘You are so dead. Once I’ve had breakfast. And, like, three more hours of sleep. And some form of caffeine,’ he muttered, shaking his head and slowly pushing himself upright, examining the state of their room. ‘Unless Mum gets you first when she sees this mess.’ Itsuki pulled a face, but didn’t bother turning around from digging further down into the cases.  
‘Mum and Dad are out. Something with those people Mum used to work with? I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention at the time – Mum was on one about chores and Dad was on one about them running late and it being a long drive or something…and I was barely awake, honestly,’ he remarked with an idle shrug. ‘They also told me we’re not to burn the house down whilst they’re gone too, just so you know.’ Shoma smiled slightly, letting out a sleepy sigh and closing his eyes for a beat.  
‘Don’t burn the house down and don’t kill each other,’ he recited, the sound muffled through the covers, and Itsuki finally paused, looking back at him with a soft smile.  
‘“You’re our three biggest investments and we want you all in one piece when we get back”,’ he finished for him. ‘Welcome home,’ he added, expression softening, and Shoma shot him a sleepy smile.  
‘Some things never change, right?’  
‘Or maybe everything always changes, but some things mean too much to us for it to make a difference to how they make us feel.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at his brother slightly.  
‘Now you sound like Yuzu,’ he said quietly, and Itsuki shrugged, arching an eyebrow.  
‘Yeah, well: Yuzu is a pretty smart guy. I got an A on that Foundation assignment he helped me with, you know.’ Shoma laughed despite himself, rolling his eyes.  
‘Of course. Because Yuzu gets good grades even on other people’s homework,’ he muttered, glancing down and biting at his lip, trying to pretend talking about him didn’t trap a pocket of air somewhere just below his ribs that made his whole body tense and achy. Itsuki wrinkled his nose, reaching up to smack at Shoma huffily.  
‘Hey: you know as well as I do he wouldn’t write it for me! I got that grade fair and square.’ He paused then, tilting his head thoughtfully. His smile was crooked and curiously fond, and Shoma raised his eyebrows at him expectantly. ‘He did give me a pretty good angle on things, though…you know, to make sure what I did was something my teacher would think stood out. So maybe I kind of owe him a favour.’  
‘Trust me: he won’t be keeping score.’  
‘And you should know,’ Itsuki said quietly, looking Shoma up and down with dark, glittering eyes. ‘I’m willing to bet you owe him a whole heap of favours…and all he’s got in return from you so far is goodbye.’  
‘ _Itsuki_ ,’ Shoma said warningly, and Itsuki put his hands up in begrudging surrender.  
‘Sorry, ok. Just an observation.’ His lips twisted then, something suddenly mischievous in the way they curved up at one corner. ‘I guess you must just be a really good kisser, huh,’ he teased, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Please shut up,’ he groaned, and Itsuki simply laughed, shooting Shoma a twinkly-eyed smirk.  
‘Sorry.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Couldn’t resist…I mean…only you could make one of the most powerful people on the planet make heart eyes over you and turn it into something miserable,’ he added, rolling his eyes. ‘You’re the biggest pessimist I know.’  
‘I’m just a realist, ok?’ Shoma huffed, his cheeks hot, and Itsuki quirked an eyebrow. ‘Also…I’m pretty sure I’m one of the most powerful people on the planet too, so don’t push it.’ Itsuki let out a bright laugh, clapping delightedly.  
‘Finally, you admit you’re in his league: this is progress,’ he declared, and Shoma scrunched his face up, letting out another groan.  
‘I never wanted a little brother, you know. Seriously.’  
‘But here I am! You have been blessed, Shoma,’ Itsuki told him in a high, childish voice that coaxed a reluctant laugh out of him. ‘What would you do without me, huh?’  
‘Sleep in on Saturdays?’ Shoma sighed, pursing his lips to fight a smile. ‘That and…probably die of boredom and loneliness in a cave somewhere.’ Itsuki grinned and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.

Still beaming, Itsuki turned back towards the half-unpacked suitcase in front of him, scanning the remaining contents with a soft sigh, his head on one side as he considered them.  
‘Ok,’ he said decisively, before launching back in, stretching across to dig through the top half of the case. ‘Mine…probably mine…mine…’ He hesitated then, frowning and pulling out something conspicuously neatly folded from the heap; it was black, the cuffs stretched out and the slightly faded lettering on the sleeve unmistakable, and Shoma felt his throat go tight, his whole body tensing at the sight of it. The familiarity of the soft, dark fabric ached – the warmth and the memories and the powder-light feeling of pastel coloured dusks all dusting Shoma’s skin like snow. Itsuki unfurled the jacket and studied it for a beat. ‘So…I’m going to go with this definitely not being mine,’ he said slowly, glancing back at Shoma thoughtfully before throwing the jacket at him. Shoma winced as it hit him in the face, and he attempted to shoot Itsuki a glare, taking the jacket in his hands and looking down at it with a heavy sigh, a small, wistful smile crossing his lips. ‘Sho…?’ Itsuki pressed, eyes softly enquiring and voice gentle, and Shoma bit his lip, instinctively shifting to pull the jacket on. The fabric was cool and worn-smooth, and as he pulled the sleeves down over his hands he brought the cuffs up to his face, closing his eyes and taking a moment to appreciate the scent of bergamot and jasmine, still fresh and gentle and just as soothing as he remembered. He smiled slightly, shaking his head and casting a shy glance at his brother.  
‘It’s Yuzu’s,’ he said, pointlessly given the iridescent lettering spelling out Yuzuru’s name along the sleeve. He lifted one shoulder in an attempt at a dismissive shrug, but he knew his brother had caught the sudden tightness in his voice, and he avoided his eyes. ‘I used to borrow it all the time, because I was always cold and leaving my jacket someplace dumb…and Yuzu’s always warm and too kind for his own good. Eventually he stopped asking for it back.’ He shook his head slightly, drawing in a deep, steadying breath and blowing it out again slowly. ‘I guess I forgot I still had it and just…dumped it in with everything else,’ he murmured, aware of Itsuki’s eyes still boring into the top of his head and not really wanting to give himself up by meeting his gaze. ‘He has two boxes full of these things under his bed, you know; old Foundation jackets and ones from summits and events. It’s not a big deal; he probably hasn’t even noticed it’s gone.’ Shoma swallowed hard, playing absently with the ends of the sleeves. ‘It makes me feel safe,’ he admitted in a whisper. ‘I don’t know why.’ He closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly shut, allowing himself, just for a moment, to remember Yuzuru standing on the bridge, his outline a cascade of petals and his cheeks wet and pink. He was beautiful and delicate, a swirl of watercolours behind Shoma’s eyelids, twisting, for a second, to look up at him with a tragic smile before taking a step back and spinning off into the black. Shoma quickly blinked his eyes open and looked up at the ceiling, taking in a painful breath.

Itsuki was still watching him, he knew, but he allowed the quiet to stretch between them, letting the warm silence of the room settle around them. The peace of it calmed Shoma a little, helped him regain his balance and find the composure that usually came so easily to him; he huffed out a breath, shaking his head slightly and looking back down at his hands, and Itsuki’s knowing eyes studied his face intently, his mouth a thin, unreadable line.  
‘So…’ he ventured into the calm, and Shoma looked up at him hesitantly. ‘How’s the forgetting him thing going, then?’ The question was blunt, but there was something genuine and concerned edging Itsuki’s tone, softening the blow the words should have had.  
‘Maybe forgetting isn’t what I’m aiming for,’ Shoma mumbled. ‘Maybe it’s more like…not letting myself remember anymore.’ Itsuki let out a hum which was both sceptical and thoughtful at the same time.  
‘And that’s different…how, exactly?’ he asked, earnest and confused, his face pinched into the softest of frowns. Shoma sucked at his bottom lip, his own forehead creasing as he tried to cut to the heart of what it was he wanted most, of how the constant pull of memories and moments and Yuzuru’s gravity made him feel and why he desperately needed to step out of that circle for just a little while to stand on his own ground.  
‘Yuzu – everything he is to me, everything we shared…’ Shoma licked his lips and took a breath. ‘It’s like bruise. Right here.’ He touched a hand to the scrubbed-raw spot right in the centre of his chest which burned every time he heard Yuzuru’s name, closing his eyes and clenching his fist there. ‘And right now it’s red and angry and it hurts almost all the time.’ He opened his eyes and looked over at Itsuki with a sad, lopsided smile. ‘But bruises heal, right? I mean, after a while the red goes purple and it only hurts when you press on it…and that fades into black and just a memory of an ache. Until eventually it doesn’t hurt at all anymore – and there’s not even any mark left behind on your skin.’ Shoma tipped his head back, sighing and staring up at the ceiling. ‘It sounds dumb. But that’s all I want, you know? To heal the bruise. By myself, in my own time – and not because someone’s power did it for me.’  
‘Because you need to know that you’re still your own person, even after sharing that connection with him? Even after having to share so much of yourself with the Foundation?’ Itsuki asked, careful and slow, like he was trying to navigate his way through Shoma’s convoluted maths and wanted to check his working out before he approved of his answers. Shoma sucked at the sore spot on his bottom lip where he’d bitten the flesh raw, looking down at his hands in his lap. He played with the cuffs of the jacket’s sleeves, noticing for the first time how misshapen they had become since Yuzuru had first loaned the jacket to him.  
‘That’s part of it,’ he nodded vaguely. ‘They don’t need me there. I shouldn’t have to need them.’ He swallowed. ‘And Yuzu…I can’t afford to need him. Because he doesn’t need the distraction to begin with and I…I know one day there’s a really good chance he won’t even be there to need anyway.’

Shoma didn’t want to be talking about this again; since the moment he had knocked on Mihoko’s office door he had been finding ways to justify how he felt to people who shouldn’t need the justification. It was how he felt – it was something instinctive inside him which had told him to go home, which had told him he couldn’t hold on to Yuzuru because if he did he might never remember how to let go. The only person who hadn’t pushed him for reasons was Yuzuru; sweet, devastated Yuzuru, with his wet, petal-riddled hair and tearstained cheeks, looking at him with dark, sparkling eyes, understanding instinctively and telling him he was going to be happy with the sort of conviction Shoma craved to feel himself. The memory pressed at the bruise in Shoma’s chest and he winced, closing his eyes. He heard Itsuki get up, felt the mattress sink as he sat down next to him and rested his head on his shoulder, an apology and a show of solidarity at the same time.

Shoma sank gratefully against Itsuki’s side, brushing self-consciously at his eyes and almost laughing at the blush of bergamot and jasmine the motion sent through the air.  
‘I do get it, you know,’ Itsuki murmured, his voice gentle and earnest as he snaked his arms around Shoma’s middle. ‘When you care, you care – with everything you have. You’re loyal…and genuine and quietly fierce...and there is nothing safer in the universe than being cared about by you, because you will do anything for someone once you’ve decided they matter to you. You’re determined. And your heart is honest and sincere. It’s the best possible combination; because it’s total, but you know it’s hard-won.’ Itsuki squeezed him slightly. ‘But the flip-side of that is that you’ve learned to protect yourself. No one can give that much to too many people and survive it. Except maybe Yuzu, apparently – but you’ve already said he’s not big on the survival part so…’ Shoma let out a damp laugh and Itsuki nudged him softly. ‘The point is: you’ve had to learn to choose who and what you care about. Because that’s a lot to give. And it leaves you open to more hurt when things go wrong.’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘It’s why I’m your best friend: because it’s safe, coz I’m, like, genetically contracted to not abandon you.’ Shoma attempted a half-hearted glare and Itsuki smiled slightly, pulling a face at him. ‘You know it’s true,’ he said simply, eyes glimmering softly. ‘It’s why you took it so hard when Sota got shipped off, and why you shut yourself off from him for months even after he came back: you didn’t want to deal with what him leaving made you feel, and him coming back left you terrified everything between you two had changed…or that he might just disappear again anyway.’ Shoma opened his mouth to protest and Itsuki cut him off with a shake of his head. ‘Don’t even try and deny it: I never called you out at the time, but I’m going to now, because…it’s basically what you’re doing to Yuzuru too.’  
‘I didn’t cut Sota off,’ Shoma muttered sullenly, and Itsuki rolled his eyes.  
‘As good as, Sho. He’s just known you almost as long as I have and doesn’t take it personally.’ Shoma huffed but didn’t argue. ‘The thing is, though, Sho…sometimes the magic happens when your guards are down, ok? There are feelings you have to let in with all their might, because that’s the only way to do them justice. There are people like that too. Technicolour people; people who you can only really know when you see them in the light.’  
‘But if you leave anything under the light too long it burns,’ Shoma whispered. ‘Lightning can kill people, you know.’  
‘Yeah: and so can the sun, Sho,’ Itsuki shot back somewhat petulantly, and Shoma glared at him. ‘What? You don’t believe me? Lots of stuff can kill people. That’s the risk you take being alive. And if you don’t take the risk, you might as well not bother breathing at all.’  
‘Why are you doing this?’ Shoma asked, quiet and weary, his voice an ache and a surrender. And for a moment Itsuki looked back at him, sad and solemn, the corners of his lips downturned and something frustrated lingering in his eyes.  
‘Because I care about you, Sho. I think you’re one of the technicolour people, when you let yourself be. I don’t want to see you put up so many walls you end up just…existing. I know you…you’d probably be happy to let yourself drift forever. And maybe that way would be safer. But I think…I think the person you are is more than that. I think it always was…and I think now…it’s just even more true. You learnt how to be golden. And I don’t want you to try and push that back inside.’ Shoma wilted just a little and Itsuki offered him a small shrug. ‘I would be being a really terrible brother if I let you keep underselling yourself all the time; I mean, it would work out ok for me, because I could get to keep all that caring for myself. But…I don’t think that’s what would be best for you. And that’s more important, ok?’ Shoma’s lips twisted up at one corner, and he glanced down, shaking his head slightly.  
‘I’m not sure I like my little brother thinking he’s smarter than me,’ he sighed, shooting Itsuki a wry glance. ‘But I suppose I should be used to it by now, huh?’ Itsuki laughed, giving Shoma a small shove.  
‘Sho, when it comes to people? You’re the wisest person I know about 90% of the time…because you’re sensitive and observant and cautious, and it makes you see things in the world that most other people miss. But the problem is you spend so much time watching and worrying about everyone else, that when it comes to yourself? You’re dumb as a brick.’  
‘Hey – that’s not fair,’ Shoma said, quiet and without conviction, and Itsuki let out an exasperated sound from the back of his throat.  
‘Come on, Sho: I know I give you a hard time but…I’m always honest with you. There’s no one more fair with you than me.’ Shoma let out an indignant huff and Itsuki jostled him slightly. ‘Will you just hear me out? Please?’ Shoma looked over at him thoughtfully, studying his face for a beat. There was something mischievous about his smile, but his eyes were darker and quieter than Shoma had ever known them, and he let out a small, defeated sound, waving his hand in a vaguely inviting gesture.  
‘Fine.’ Itsuki’s lips twitched into a smile he quickly fought back.  
‘Look, all I’m trying to say is that…half the trick to figuring out all these questions you feel are overwhelming you? Is probably just…knowing the difference.’  
‘Knowing what difference?’  
‘You ever listen to your favourite song on crappy speakers?’ Shoma gave Itsuki an odd look, but nodded all the same, and Itsuki’s lips curled up into a wonky smile. ‘Ok. You ever listen on really good headphones?’ he asked, widening his eyes slightly. Shoma frowned, nodding again. ‘And you notice the difference, right? So if you had to choose one, if the choice was put in front of you for how you wanted to hear that song for the rest of time…wouldn’t you take what you’d learnt from both those experiences and pick the option that made you hear things you didn’t hear before, the one that made you feel something more…the one that makes you happiest? Makes you look at the world around you in new ways?’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘I get that it’s hard, Sho. I get that it’s complicated. But if it’s better…isn’t that the important part?’ Shoma pursed his lips and Itsuki sighed. ‘I know, I know: you don’t want more opinions,’ he said, his tone briefly turning into the childish whine of many past arguments and coaxing a dry smile out of Shoma. ‘Look, I’m sorry, ok? I just…I hate watching you torture yourself. If you think coming home is the answer then you know I’m not going to argue. I just hope the bruise heals the way you want it to, ok?’ Itsuki hesitated, looking down almost shyly and then slowly glancing back at Shoma from under his fringe. ‘And if it doesn’t and you go back…it doesn’t change anything, you know. You’re still my best friend. For life. Even if I find out tomorrow that Mum and Dad actually just found you on the doorstep and we’re not related at all. Promise.’ Shoma couldn’t help but laugh, letting out a soft groan and bumping their shoulders together with a smile.  
‘Please. If it was going to turn out they found anyone on the doorstep it would be you.’  
‘Nuh-uh!’ Itsuki protested in an indignant yelp and Shoma smirked.  
‘ _Yuh-huh_.’ He widened his eyes pointedly, elbowing Itsuki in the side and laughing when he dramatically fell back against the bed with a whine.  
‘You’re so mean, Shoma.’  
‘I’m the older brother, I get to put you in your place once in a while.’ Shoma looked down at Itsuki, who was grinning back at him, laughing slightly, and for a moment he felt all the peace he wanted to feel. ‘I’m gonna get breakfast – you want me to make you some too?’ he asked through a vaguely contented sigh, and Itsuki nodded enthusiastically.  
‘ _Please_ , I’m starving.’ Shoma’s smile was all affection even as he rolled his eyes.  
‘What were you doing on Saturdays without me, huh?’ Itsuki shrugged.  
‘Guilting Mum into spoiling me.’ Shoma laughed.  
‘You are such a baby.’  
‘Uh, I’m the baby of this family and I intend to make the most of it, thank you.’

Shoma gave Itsuki another shove for good measure and the two of them shared a look before both collapsing into laughter. The morning sun was warm on Shoma’s back and the air was heavy and dry, but it felt calm and quiet and safe, and he wanted to appreciate it, to try and absorb it the way Yuzuru would, letting it settle into his skin so that it could become one of those memories that could breathe again one day. Itsuki flashed him a small, gentle smile, like he knew. ‘Please tell me your plans for the day don’t just involve moping?’  
‘Leave me alone, I can wallow if I want to.’  
‘Sho, you always wallow,’ Itsuki protested, scrunching his face up in distaste. ‘Come out with me; I’m meeting my friends to revise, but we could go eat instead.’  
‘Please, you think I’m risking Mum’s wrath for stopping you studying?’ Shoma said with a sly smile. ‘Not happening. Besides, I’m not spending time with a load of your friends bugging me with questions about the Foundation and asking for Yuzu’s autograph.’  
‘They wouldn’t!’ Itsuki pouted indignantly, and Shoma shot him a sceptical glance. ‘Ok, fine, some of them might. But my real friends wouldn’t,’ Itsuki relented slightly, pulling a face, and Shoma’s expression softened into a wry smile.  
‘It doesn’t matter anyway: I have uni work to do.’  
‘I thought Brian got all your deadlines extended?’  
‘Yeah, but after helping Yuzu revise his press stuff, and going to the summit and…everything after…my extensions need extensions, and there’s a load of lectures I’m supposed to watch before my next round of assignments come up,’ Shoma grimaced, and Itsuki wrinkled his nose.  
‘But it’s _Saturday_. Sundays are for last minute cramming, Sho: come on…it’s your first weekend back home, you really want to spend it cooped up studying?’ Shoma smiled tiredly, shooting his brother a sidelong glance.  
‘Did you forget who I am whilst I was gone? I hardly ever leave the house; it’s not a big deal, stop trying to make it something deep.’ He shrugged. ‘Will you quit bugging me about it if I promise to go for a run or something?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully, and Itsuki narrowed his eyes, looking him up and down thoughtfully before letting out a reluctant sigh.  
‘Fine. I guess you need the space. But if you get bored then call me, ok? We can go do something – I promise it doesn’t even have to be outdoors.’ Shoma laughed softly, nodding.  
‘Sure; I promise I’ll call you if I need anything. Stop playing big brother, ok? That’s my job.’ Itsuki’s lips curled up at the corners, a wide, genuine grin breaking out over his face, and Shoma smiled back at him, eyes twinkling with warm fondness. ‘Deal?’ he pressed, reaching across to tickle his brother and laughing when he yelped and squirmed, kicking out uselessly at him as he tried to wriggle away.  
‘Deal, deal! I swear!’ Itsuki laughed breathlessly, finally managing to push Shoma away, and Shoma’s eyes danced with amusement. As they both caught their breath, Shoma flopped down beside Itsuki on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling before closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying how quiet wasting time with Itsuki made his head. ‘I missed Saturday mornings with you,’ Itsuki said into the silence, and Shoma smiled slightly, nudging him gently with his foot.  
‘You’re just saying that because I promised you breakfast,’ he joked, and Itsuki stuck his tongue out.  
‘Sure, ruin the moment why don’t you,’ he muttered, but there was still a smile lingering in his eyes that made Shoma grin.

‘I don’t know what we have in, so breakfast is going to be whatever I find first, ok?’ Shoma sighed, pushing himself up and glancing back at Itsuki expectantly. ‘You coming?’  
‘In a minute. I should probably put your stuff back in your cases first, right?’ Shoma laughed, giving a genuinely unbothered shrug.  
‘I don’t mind. Mum might have something to say, though.’ Itsuki pulled a face and Shoma flashed him a smirk before heaving himself up from the bed, picking his way around his suitcases and the unruly heaps of his belongings which Itsuki had left everywhere. He stifled a yawn, rubbing at his eyes and pushing his matted hair out of his face; it took him by surprise to feel the gentle brush of Yuzuru’s jacket against his skin again, and every cell in his body briefly fizzed into life, a deep sense-memory triggered of all the times Yuzuru had reached up to push his fringe out of his eyes as they wasted time together in the garden. He thought of the way his jacket would drag just a little along his skin when they had kissed, and how the cuffs stretched out over his long, dainty fingers as he reached out to grab Shoma’s hand. Shoma shivered, resting his hand on the door handle and drawing in a steadying breath. ‘What angle did he give you?’ he asked quietly, turning back to glance at his brother. Itsuki looked up, leaning up on his elbows and frowning at Shoma in confusion. ‘Yuzu. You said he gave you a different angle on the Foundation which helped you get the A in your assignment. What was it?’ Itsuki’s expression gentled; there was something knowing in his eyes, though his smile was all sympathy, and Shoma appreciated the nonchalance with which he managed to shrug.  
‘He told me to not focus on the idea of the Foundation as some tool that’s there just to save the world,’ Itsuki said, his smile lazy as he flicked his hair out of his eyes. ‘He said that stuff is for the history books to argue over someday, because it’s too big to ever seem like a winnable battle whilst the world is still in the thick of the fight.’ Itsuki tipped his head to one side, glancing down. ‘The Foundation means something to people, though, on an individual level; it has threaded gold into the fabric of the world and reminded people that magic is still theirs if they look for it. It’s taught people to believe in things and in themselves. It’s not trying to just be the answer – it’s trying to be the back-up, there for anyone who thinks they can stand up and face the Grey Zone fight in even the smallest way. It’s trying to help everyone have the potential to be the answer, or at least be a part of it.’ Shoma smiled despite himself, feeling the crack in the corner of his lip open up again. He nodded slowly, looking down.  
‘That’s what it’s like looking at the world with Yuzuru’s eyes, I guess; there’s magic, everywhere. And no matter how badly people let him down? He still sees that in them. He never stops believing there is good in things…and that somehow that will even out the bad.’ Itsuki made a small sound – noncommittal and soft and edged with something Shoma couldn’t quite place, and he looked up at him curiously. Itsuki smiled.  
‘Sometimes you just have to put faith in things, Sho.’ Shoma pursed his lips.  
‘And sometimes people get too close to the edge of the cliff because they expect someone to catch them – then it turns out they don’t survive the fall.’

Itsuki didn’t press him further, and Shoma was relieved that he didn’t immediately move to follow him to the kitchen either; he was grateful of the chance to be alone with his thoughts. He padded across the kitchen floor, standing in the middle of the room for a moment with his eyes closed. He swallowed and squared his shoulders, and when he blinked his eyes back open he felt just a little sturdier, a little more awake. He moved over to the fridge and opened both the doors, staring blankly inside for a beat as he tried to remember what to do; it was possible to make your own meals at the Foundation, if you chose, but Shoma had never had to – Team Japan were seasoned connoisseurs of the Foundation’s many restaurants and Yuzuru was unceasingly generous, and Shoma’s management of his schedule had been haphazard enough that even on the rare occasions he had spent a mealtime alone he hadn’t had the time to actually cook anything. He yawned, enjoying the feeling of the cold air on his cheeks, and squinted at the over-stocked shelves in front of him; his mother had clearly ensured to get every food he had ever expressed the slightest liking for in time for his return, and Shoma felt tired enough that the choice was overwhelming. He could hear Itsuki banging around as he tidied up and brushed his teeth, and he instinctively drew himself in a little at the noise, wincing slightly and shoving his hands in the pockets of Yuzuru’s jacket. To his surprise, his fingers brushed against something in one of the pockets, whatever it was making a small crinkling sound as it crumpled against his body, and he frowned, his fingers closing around it and pulling it out. In the palm of his hand was a neatly folded piece of paper, familiar, spikey handwriting running across the outside fold. Shoma’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at it for a beat, static suddenly zigzagging its way through his whole body and goosebumps creeping up his arms; everything was briefly a blur, cloudy and pastel at the corners, and Shoma could almost feel the waft of a thousand petals falling away from his edges, pale pink shadows on the corner of his vision which danced, momentarily, into a waiflike outline that then spun and twisted out of sight. Shoma blinked, once, twice, three times – shivering with the electricity of it all – and then blew out the breath he had barely realised he was holding.

The note was brief, but Yuzuru could weave all sorts of spells with even the smallest sentences, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile as he read what he had written: “Sometimes there are no clear paths, only hot chocolate and a moment alone with our thoughts before we start walking again. Take care, Shoma. And be happy”. Shoma ran a finger along the indentations on the paper, tracing the words with his fingertip before reverently unfolding the page and letting out a small, immensely fond laugh that sounded more like a hiccup as it caught in his throat. _Yuzuru’s mother’s hot chocolate recipe_. The gesture made Shoma’s whole chest ache, but there was also something strangely calming in being able to look down over Yuzuru’s crisp, orderly instructions; it was the way it shrank everything down to simple tasks and clear facts, somehow making it seem ok that all Shoma wanted – needed – right now was to carve out a quiet space for himself to retreat into, giving him permission to shut out the noise and opinions and well-meaning advice and just get his strength back before he began to push ahead again. There was one person in the world he wanted to talk to in that moment – he was the one person Shoma couldn’t risk reaching out to for fear he wouldn’t be able to let go.

‘Urgh; Mum’s left us lists of chores.’ Shoma jumped at the sound of Itsuki’s voice, staring at him dumbly for a moment. Itsuki pulled a face and gestured at the notepad stuck to the fridge door with distaste, oblivious to Shoma’s dazed expression. ‘I’m never going to get all this done before I go out,’ he complained, and Shoma came back to himself slightly, offering Itsuki a kind smile.  
‘Want me to do yours for you?’ he offered gently, and Itsuki looked over at him with wide, hopeful eyes, almost making Shoma laugh.  
‘Would you?!’  
‘Sure. It’s not like I’ve got much better to do,’ Shoma shrugged, his smile turning lopsided as Itsuki beamed at him. ‘Besides, I don’t want to listen to you and Mum arguing all night over whether you should have done something before she got back – and I definitely don’t want you both trying to make me pick a side.’ Shoma rolled his eyes and Itsuki fought back an impish smile, clasping his hands together beneath his chin and fixing Shoma with his most earnest expression.  
‘Thank you, Sho. _Seriously_. I owe you.’ Shoma cast his brother a vaguely dismissive smile, wrinkling his nose at him.  
‘No, you don’t – it’s what I’m here for, right? Don’t worry about it.’ Itsuki’s smile quietened just a little, and he gave a small nod, looking almost shy as he tipped his head to one side.  
‘Still…thanks,’ he said softly. He noticed the paper in Shoma’s hand then, and he frowned, twisting to try and get a better view and casting Shoma a curious look when he took a sharp step back, protectively jerking the paper towards himself and folding it back up.  
‘What is that?’ Itsuki asked as Shoma turned away from him quickly, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he took another step closer. ‘Sho-’  
‘It’s nothing,’ Shoma cut him off, his voice firm even as he avoided his eyes. He shook his head vaguely, shoving the paper abruptly back into the pocket he’d found it in. Itsuki was still watching him, his brow furrowed, but Shoma pretended not to notice, pulling his sleeves down over his hands and folding his arms as he stared into the fridge more intently than necessary. ‘You’re not getting an answer so give up,’ he told Itsuki decisively. ‘Now what do you want for breakfast, or are you going to let me decide?’

Itsuki knew Shoma well enough to know his limits, and he chose not to push him, deciding instead to sit up on the counter making small talk and trying to force a laugh out of him whilst he cooked their breakfast. When the food was ready, Itsuki took his plate off to eat in front of the television, giving Shoma’s shoulder a small squeeze before leaving him to clean up the kitchen. By the time they had both eaten, Itsuki was running late to meet his friends and Shoma had made a tactical retreat back to his bed, pulling out his computer and skimming idly through coursework notes whilst Itsuki clattered around in the background, complaining to himself and generally acting like Shoma wasn’t even there.  
‘Call me if you decide you’re done wallowing?’ Itsuki asked as he paused in the doorway on his way out, and Shoma shot him a dry look from over the top of his computer screen. ‘Ok, ok: I get it. Inside good, outside bad. But don’t mope about too much, ok? And please try and get some fresh air or something, because Mum will blame me for not forcing you out if she finds you still lying on your bed when she gets home. You know you’ll only make her start worrying about you if she comes back to find you still lying on your bed in your pyjamas…and no way will she not ask questions when she sees you wearing Yuzuru Hanyu’s jacket.’

It was fair advice, but Shoma didn’t have much desire to act on it, so as he listened to Itsuki slam dramatically out of the front door, yelling into his phone as he called around his friends to confirm details, he pushed his computer just a little way away from him and dropped his head down onto his folded arms, closing his eyes and listening to the house finally go still once more. He had always relished his days home alone; he loved his brother and his parents and his small group of friends, but there was something special about the space and silence of his home when they all finally cleared out and left him to his own devices. The only place he’d ever known to feel so peaceful was the garden, and even then Shoma wondered if some of its peace would leave it if Yuzuru wasn’t there. His home was always welcoming, always calm and quiet as it wrapped its roots around him, never letting him become dislodged from his place; there was something to be said for the protective weight of soil and silence and he wanted to sink himself into it, to let this dense, quiet space fold him in and wrap him up and make him an undetachable part of it, answering any doubts or questions for him by making any other sort of life seem unreachable and unreal. He wanted mud to cover the lightning tracks – he knew he could never remove the traces of gold from his skin, but at the same time he needed them to be something less obvious, less pressing. He wanted to swipe at the layer of memories covering him the same way he could swipe at the layer of dust on his bedside table, clearing them off in a careless sweep and scattering them off into the air; he could watch them dance like dust motes in sunlight one last time and then walk away and have no fear he would ever need them again. He had come back to everything he used to know in the hope it would restore some surety in him, but instead he was starting to feel more like he was trapped on a bridge between two worlds, swaying in the breeze with no choice but to fall into the abyss between. For a moment he let himself feel the ache of the thunder in his chest; there were still a thousand threads of light stretching out across the miles in a spider’s web of magic and memories, delicate and gossamer and gold, and when Shoma lay on his back and squinted up from his tired eyes, he could almost feel the shadows it cast over his skin, could catch the shimmer of it in the pale yellow of the morning light as he blew out a breath that made it dance and sway. He swallowed, squeezed his eyes shut and then quickly blinked them open again – and just like that, the strands were gone. Or at least, Shoma couldn’t see them any longer – he could still feel them ghosting over his skin, though, as familiar to him now as breathing.

Shoma rolled over and stared glumly at his coursework, trying to summon some sort of enthusiasm for it and failing; it was probably not a good time to be realising that he definitely didn’t see himself wanting to pursue any of this stuff in the future. The picture of his life going forwards was unclear enough without this thought, but he couldn’t help the prickle of anxiety he felt as he considered it; university could protect him for a little while, providing a welcome buffer between himself and having to make the very real, adult decisions about what he wanted his life to be, but it wouldn’t last forever.

He huffed and pushed himself upright, rummaging around through his half-unpacked suitcases for something to wear and carefully hanging Yuzuru’s jacket on the back of the desk chair. He busied himself with getting dressed and shook off his pensive mood by force of will; he wasn’t going to let everything pile on top of him on only his first full day home, and he wanted to make the most of the peace and the empty house. It was the recharge he had been craving for so long, and it felt just as good as he had hoped – to his relief, the noise was so much easier to push back without other energies and constant movement ringing in his ears, and he felt like himself again, for once without the help of lightning washing over him. There was a light rain shower passing over – a film of glitter against the backdrop of morning sunshine – and Shoma opened the window to let in the moist air, breathing it in and smiling slightly to himself as the smell of damp leaves brought back a flood of abstract memories, fragments of old feelings and forgotten weekends settling into his bones. Not as lost as he had feared they might be after all. He flopped back down in front of his computer, put on his music and returned to his coursework with steely determination; he was starting to remember how to be steadfast, and it felt right. It occurred to him, dimly, that he really was the person Yuzuru had made him feel he was – even without him there, he was capable of being the person he saw him as. It was a good thought, one he intended to return to at some point when he was ready for it.

He was about to make a start on his and Itsuki’s chores when his computer began to chime with the sound of a call, and he froze for a moment, staring at the screen with narrowed eyes. _Kanako_. He instantly felt the unique brand of fear and fondness that only Team Japan could inspire, and he let out a groan which was almost a laugh, briefly turning his eyes towards the ceiling and trying to calculate what time it was there – was it still Friday for them? He stared at the still-ringing notification, chewing at the corner of his lip as he debated whether or not to respond; he had chores to do and lectures to catch up on, but, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny he had missed the buzz and nonsense of Team Japan in his ears, and, between the Singapore trip and his abrupt departure from the Foundation, he felt like it had been forever since he got to enjoy the teasing and endless warmth Kanako always offered him. He supposed she was calling to reprimand him for not keeping up with the group chat, as though he ever contributed that much to it anyway. Knowing Kanako would only keep ringing if he ignored her, Shoma sighed, resigned, and hit the accept button with a reluctant smirk.

There was a moment of delay before the shifting pixels successfully adjusted themselves into order, opening up a window across the miles and flickering briefly into blurry shapes that gradually formed themselves into the outlines of Kanako and at least half of Team Japan, their faces slowly growing ridiculous with delight as Shoma’s own webcam flickered into life.  
‘SHOMA!’ cried five different voices at once, and Shoma winced, drawing back from the screen slightly and flicking Satoko a small, amused smile when he noticed the kind-yet-knowing look she was giving him. The group seemed to be gathered in the laundry room, Nobu and some of the girls clustering together on the floor whilst Wakaba and Mao sat behind them on top of the washing machines. Daisuke and Takahito were perched on the edge of the shot – Daisuke leaning in to give Shoma a small salute and a wink – whilst in the background Shoma was amused to spot Keiji hard at work on what appeared to be everyone’s laundry, Kazuki standing beside him holding an overfull wash basket, beaming like he was thrilled just to be invited.  
‘You answered!’ Kaori exclaimed, clapping. She was sitting between Kanako and Satoko on the floor, her eyes sparkling and her smile wide, something undeniable and sweet about her expression that made Shoma smile back at her despite himself.  
‘Told you he would: Shoma can’t say no to me,’ Kanako beamed, nodding her head so enthusiastically her ponytail bobbed up and down behind her.  
‘But Shoma also can’t say no to sleep, the odds were fifty-fifty on whether he was even awake,’ Wakaba shrugged, and Kaori turned around to smack her leg with a laugh.  
‘Then why would he be online?!’  
‘Because he’s Shoma. The chaos is strong with this one,’ Mao said dryly, her expression mischievous but fond as she shrugged, shooting Shoma a twinkling smile. ‘No offence, Shoma,’ she added, and Shoma pulled a face at her.  
‘You want to call me chaotic when you guys are calling me from the laundry room?!’ he said archly, flinching slightly as his name was again yelled out by several different voices at once, whiney and teasing and far too loud.  
‘It’s our brand new Team Japan Laundry Night, Shoma – where else would we be calling you from, huh?’ Nobu pronounced, his face an exaggeration of outrage that Shoma smirked and rolled his eyes at.  
‘What part of this is a “Team Japan” Laundry Night when Kazuki and me are the ones doing all the work, huh?’ Keiji asked dryly from the back, throwing a bundled-up Foundation jacket at Nobu’s head and ducking with lightning-fast reflexes when Nobu yelped and threw it straight back at him. The jacket hit Kazuki instead and Nobu laughed ungraciously loudly.  
‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! It was Keiji’s fault! Forgive me!’ he yelled as Kazuki appeared from beneath the jacket, eyes sparkling with amusement even as he pulled a face and dumped the jacket into the laundry basket he was still somehow balancing.  
‘I kind of knew what I was in for after Wakaba kidnapped me from the library by jumping on me from behind yelling “Team Japan Laundry Night, be there or else” in my ear,’ he shrugged, unbothered.  
‘Are you still a little bit deaf or did the chocolate I gave you fix it?’ Wakaba asked with an impish smile, titling her head sweetly to one side, and Kazuki shot her a dazzling, open smile.  
‘Definitely fixed it – but you can give me more if you want,’ he joked, and Wakaba stuck her tongue out at him.  
‘And have you get chocolate on the laundry? No way!’ she insisted with a wild laugh, pointedly popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth with a flourish.  
‘Is Team Japan Laundry Night actually a thing now?’ Kaori frowned, turning to look around the group in search of confirmation, and in the background Shoma could see Keiji straighten and shoot them all a glare.  
‘If it is going to be a thing, then I’m starting a rota before you stick me with the hard work every week,’ he said archly, standing and taking the round of teasing whines and huffs and protests with a knowing half-smile and a put-upon sigh.  
‘You’re just so good at looking after us all, Keiji!’ Wakaba informed him.  
‘Yeah, yeah: you all owe me,’ Keiji smirked, blowing his hair out of his face and turning back to start pressing buttons on the washing machine.

‘Did you guys really call me just to show me you’ve found a way to trick Keiji into doing all your housework for you?’ Shoma asked dryly as the others slowly turned back to face him. ‘Because I’ve kind of been managing to do that since my first day, so…’  
‘Shoma!’ Kanako chided. ‘He’s right there!!’  
‘Yeah, but he’s not wrong: his room ended up tidier than mine half the time,’ Keiji put in with a shrug. ‘He’s wily and clever and…very hard to say no to.’ Shoma shot him a small smile over Satoko’s shoulder and Keiji gave him a quick wink in return, something oddly protective in the way he looked at him that made Shoma wish he could reach out and knock against his shoulder by way of a thank you.  
‘ _Actually_ , Shoma, we called you because we miss you,’ Satoko said, deciding to take charge of the conversation before it descended into a five-to-six-way Team Japan quip-off. Her expression was gentle, even as she shook her head at Shoma despairingly, and Shoma glanced over at her with a wicked smirk, his eyes glinting.  
‘I’ve been gone a day,’ he deadpanned, fighting a smile as he was immediately met with a loud but well-meaning chorus of protest from almost everyone present.  
‘And what a long day!’ Nobu lamented dramatically. ‘Our lives, they have become so empty and cold, Shoma! How are we going to survive the winter without you, huh?’ He touched a hand to his forehead and swayed backwards to lean on Kanako, who shoved him off with a laugh and a roll of her eyes.  
‘Who says we have to: we can persuade Shoma back before then,’ she said resolutely, and Shoma shot her a half-hearted glare.  
‘I told you, Kana: I don’t know when I’m coming back,’ he said with a small wince, a prickle of uncertainty finding its way back in. He looked down at his hands, his forehead creasing into a faint frown as he worried at his bottom lip. ‘Honestly, I don’t even know if I’m coming back at all,’ he admitted in a soft, apologetic murmur. There was a beat of silence at that, and he could feel every pair of eyes taking a moment to study him – it was uncomfortable, and he fidgeted under the scrutiny, twisting his hands together and swallowing down a lump in his throat.  
‘I think you’ll come back, Shoma,’ Kaori said, earnest and hopeful, and Shoma looked up at her with a rueful smile.  
‘What makes you so sure, huh?’  
‘Oh we can be very persuasive, Shoma,’ Wakaba beamed, leaning forward to get a better look at him. ‘You’ll see.’  
‘You will get bored of Japan eventually – it’s nowhere near as wild as we are,’ Kanako added, her smile mischievous.  
‘Well there’s no arguing that point,’ Daisuke smirked, shooting Shoma a knowing smile. ‘I’m not sure if that’s the thing that will actually persuade you back though.’  
‘Oh, there are some wild things to Shoma’s taste,’ Keiji smirked, and Shoma glared at him.  
‘You’re all crazy,’ he sighed dryly. ‘And I don’t think any of you understand just how much I missed my bed.’  
‘How can you miss a bed more than you miss me, Shoma? Huh?’ Nobu demanded.  
‘The same way you can miss a hug more than a headache, I would imagine,’ Takahito teased, quiet and soft, and Shoma smothered a laugh as Nobu let out an outraged yelp.  
‘Well I still think you’ll come back,’ Wakaba declared. ‘You’re too loyal to just abandon us.’  
‘Loyal and softer than you want us to know,’ Mao nodded in agreement, eyes sparkling. Shoma glanced over at Satoko then, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly, and she simply lifted one shoulder, her dark, quiet eyes shining intently as she met his gaze.  
‘You know what I think, Shoma,’ she said simply. ‘I told you the morning you left.’

Shoma glanced away, biting at the corner of his lip and closing his eyes for a moment. ‘How is getting lost going?’ Satoko pressed, and Shoma sighed.  
‘It’s…a work in progress,’ he muttered.  
‘How is _forgetting_ going?’ Satoko asked more pointedly, and Shoma attempted a glare.  
‘Satton.’ Keiji’s voice was gentle but stern, and Satoko pursed her lips, shooting Shoma a mildly apologetic look.  
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound harsh, Shoma. I just…worry about you sometimes,’ she said with a small smile, and Shoma smiled back at her thinly.  
‘It’s fine. I probably deserved it,’ he said with a dismissive shrug, his voice sounding a little more vulnerable than he wanted it to.  
‘Do you at least miss us a little bit, Shoma?’ Nobu asked, his tone determinedly light and his expression soft and genuine. ‘Could you maybe pretend to miss us? Just for an hour or so? Maybe twenty minutes? Ten? Two?!’ He clasped his hands beneath his chin and widened his eyes pleadingly, and instantly the tension went out of Shoma’s body as he let out a small, high laugh from the back of his throat.  
‘You do realise that being around you guys is like being around ten of my brother? And that isn’t a compliment. One Itsuki is fine, but ten would probably result in murder.’ Nobu pouted.  
‘Shoma – so mean!’  
‘It’s like he never even left, right?’ Kanako laughed.  
‘When we need insults and threats on our life, can we call you up any time, or do we need to book an appointment?’ Mao asked impishly, and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘I can send you a list of my favourites, how does that sound?’ Nobu clapped enthusiastically and Shoma rolled his eyes, letting out another laugh and shaking his head. ‘You’re so dumb.’  
‘Which is Shoma for “Yes, I miss you”, for anyone wanting to know,’ Keiji said with a knowing smile. Shoma stuck his tongue out at him, but felt no need to contradict his words.

‘So come on: is home everything you wished for, huh?’ Kanako asked brightly into the pause, seemingly taking pity on him and fixing him with her sunniest smile. Shoma felt a slow grin creeping into his features as he bobbed his head in a measured nod.  
‘Home is good,’ he admitted, twisting his lips to one side and tilting his head as he thought. ‘My brother is still the worst and my parents still cook better food than anyone else on the planet so…all the important things are exactly the way they’re supposed to be.’  
‘Have you left your house yet?’ Satoko asked, mischievous and teasing, and Shoma scrunched his face up in distaste  
‘Why leave my house when I only just got here, huh?’ he shot back, to the general amusement of the group.  
‘Never change, Shoma,’ Kaori laughed, shaking her head.  
‘To be fair, that seemed like a good argument to me,’ Kazuki shrugged, peering around an armful of clothes and shooting Shoma one of his ridiculously genuine smiles. ‘I think if I’d have gone home right after the summit, I would have stayed in my bed for a month and not moved.’  
‘That…actually sounds tempting,’ Keiji sighed, taking the clothes from Kazuki’s arms and bundling them into the next washing machine along. ‘But apparently Team Japan would fall apart without me,’ he added with a wry smile.  
‘We love you Keiji!’ the girls chorused, all faux-sweetness and glittering eyes, and Keiji nodded sceptically, running a hand through his hair.  
‘Sure you do: because you know I’m the one you can get to do stuff for you,’ he said, just about managing to suppress his fond smile.  
‘You shouldn’t complain; I think Shoma’s friendship with Yuzu was built on similarly solid foundations, right?!’ Wakaba teased, a glint in her eye. She turned back to look at Shoma, her smile devilish as she tilted her head curiously.  
‘Actually our friendship was built on a mutual distrust of you, Waka,’ Shoma shot back calmly, a wicked glint in his eyes, and Wakaba pulled a face at him ‘That…and also maybe the fact he brings me food,’ he relented, and Kaori cooed.  
‘That’s so sweet,’ she said. ‘Yuzu is so fun when he’s allowed to let loose – I wish he had more time to hang out with us.’  
‘Careful what you wish for: Yuzu can be loud when let loose,’ Keiji smirked.  
‘Yuzu can be pointy-elbowed when let loose,’ Kanako nodded.  
‘Yuzu can be exhausting when let loose,’ Takahito added with a fond smile.  
‘Yuzu can also be amazing, though,’ Shoma said, quiet but firm, and he felt a blush creep up his neck as everyone glanced over at him. ‘What? It’s true. He’s everything at once and it’s a lot but…you know about it, when you’ve spent time with him. You remember it. Like you’re still vibrating from the energy and you feel like…maybe it’ll just stay that way forever.’  
‘Like a tuning fork that never stops singing,’ Satoko smiled, nodding slowly. ‘I think I know what you mean – a little,’ she shrugged. Shoma smiled shyly.  
‘Whatever…just…go easy on him, ok? He’s…all heart and willpower – and that shouldn’t be taken for granted, I don’t think.’  
‘Hmm, sounds like someone else I know, actually,’ Satoko said quietly, fixing him with a thoughtful smile.  
‘You must miss him most of all, huh?’ Mao asked into the quiet, soft, gentle and kind, her expression open rather than teasing – she looked at him like someone who barely had half the story, honest and free of any sly edges, and it made him smile. He lifted his shoulder, attempting a casual shrug even as the wince on his face betrayed him.  
‘I don’t know. Maybe. It’s just habit, I guess…to expect him around every corner. But you can get out of habits eventually, if you concentrate.’ Shoma looked down at his hands and sucked in a deep, steadying breath. ‘I need to just be myself again for a little while.’  
‘Actually, Shoma…I always saw you as the most of yourself when you were around Yuzuru. Like suddenly you were too happy to remember to be self-conscious at all,’ Satoko said with a shrug. ‘But maybe I was mistaken.’ Shoma pressed his lips into a thin line.  
‘Yeah, maybe you were,’ he replied, low and faintly warning, and Satoko’s smile softened a little as she rested her chin on her hand.  
‘I wasn’t trying to get at you, Shoma. It’s honestly just…what I saw.’ Shoma looked up into her kind eyes and she scrunched her face up at him in a full, reassuring smile. ‘You’ll figure it out on your own without any of us telling you how to think. You’re smart – and you have a good heart, when you let people into it,’ she told him gently. Shoma’s mouth twitched up at one corner.  
‘It’s my first full day at home, Satton – can you please let me get over my jetlag before you start giving me life lessons?’ Satoko laughed softly, eyes sparkling as she nodded.  
‘Ah, so the true reason you don’t want to talk to Yuzu is revealed then,’ Kanako put in teasingly. ‘We all know he would have words pouring out of him by now.’  
‘He is a mighty lecturer when he gets started; fearsome and relentless,’ Nobu agreed. Shoma laughed slightly, rolling his eyes.  
‘Shut up, he’s not that bad,’ he dismissed, faintly protective and immensely fond. He knew Satoko caught the look in his eyes – Keiji probably did too – but he couldn’t help it, not with the memory of Yuzuru’s note still fresh in his mind. He glanced over to the jacket, his eyes resting on the pocket for a moment before he shook his head and turned away.

‘Lecturer or not, I could probably listen to Yuzu talk all day when he gets going,’ Kazuki noted blithely as he hopped to sit up on top of the washing machine behind him. ‘He loves to try to unravel problems in these big, crazy sentences…and if you actually listen to what he’s saying, it’s usually pretty interesting…even if there is…you know…a lot of it.’ Shoma blinked in surprise.  
‘You talk to Yuzu?’ he blurted, wincing slightly at the unnecessary amount of disbelief in his voice – after all, why shouldn’t Yuzuru have had conversations with Kazuki if he was there and willing to listen.  
‘You want to watch out, Shoma: Kazuki is looking to steal your job as Yuzu’s shadow in your absence,’ Kanako laughed impishly, her eyes suddenly aglitter.  
‘It’s true – they’re the new double act now,’ Kaori said.  
‘Huh?’ Shoma frowned, flicking an uncertain glance at Satoko, who shot him a placating smile.  
‘Yuzu asked Kazuki to go over his practice questions and speeches with him before the press for the Alliance visit gets serious over the weekend,’ she explained gently. ‘They’ve been revising every spare moment Yuzu has since…before you left, actually.’ Shoma froze, feeling something flare in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t quite understand.  
‘Wait…seriously?’ he asked, his voice tight and harsher than he intended. ‘But…why Kazuki?!’  
‘Shoma,’ Satoko scolded, her gaze caring but stern as she widened her eyes at him pointedly, and Shoma flinched, looking over at Kazuki apologetically.  
‘Sorry,’ he said, scrunching his face up slightly. ‘I didn’t mean it like that, I just…I didn’t know you and him were close…I didn’t realise he even…I didn’t think he’d talked to you that much, with how new you are and everything.’  
‘It’s fine,’ Kazuki smiled, ridiculously earnest and gentle in the face of Shoma’s irrational fit of jealousy. ‘I think when he asked it was…maybe only the third time we talked? So I was as surprised as you.’ When he saw Shoma’s expression he let out a soft laugh, waving his hand dismissively. ‘Seriously, I really don’t mind.’ Shoma smiled at him gratefully, nodding and feeling a prickle of guilt for taking his conflicted emotions out on someone as hopelessly generous and forgiving as Kazuki, who was always innocent and sincere in the face of Team Japan’s turbulence and who definitely deserved better.  
‘Yuzu thinks Kazuki’s the cutest thing: he’s, like, the only person who can make him smile right now,’ Kaori explained with a giggle, glancing back over at Kazuki, whose expression shifted into a curious mixture of embarrassment and pride.  
‘It’s fun. He’s so amazing at coming up with an answer on the spot as well; sometimes I think I’ve found the hardest question possible and he manages to turn it into something so inspiring I want to be taking notes. I like having the chance to learn that from him – I would love to give speeches that meant as much to people as his do one day.’ He shrugged, looking over at Shoma somewhat shyly. ‘I’m pretty sure he only asked me because I was the only one not doing anything – he’d definitely rather you were here, Shoma. I know it, actually. I mean…he didn’t say it but…you two are so close…and he has been different. Since you left he…is still all the things he always is, but he’s also…more restless, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or when he wants his sentences to end. And he keeps drawing butterflies on his notes and frowning at them. And getting frustrated with his words…but nothing I suggest ever seems to work out like he wants. He misses the way your head works, I think.’ Shoma’s lips twitched in a tiny fragment of a smile, and he looked down, feeling guilt and loss and longing and the slightest trace of irritation all flare up at once in his chest.  
‘It still didn’t take him long to replace me though, did it,’ he whispered, wrinkling his nose, and Satoko let out a soft sound of objection.  
‘Shoma, don’t say that,’ she huffed, and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?’ he muttered darkly, aware he was being childish and ridiculous but finding himself less able to control his emotions than usual; even without being in the room, Yuzuru could make his placid mask slip, apparently. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that – don’t tell him I said that, ok? I’m just tired and…I don’t like that he’s still going ahead with this Alliance thing so I’m taking it out on the wrong people.’ Shoma sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  
‘It’s ok: it’s in our interest not to tell on you this time,’ Wakaba muttered, wincing slightly. ‘I mean, honestly? We weren’t going to tell him we called you at all,’ she admitted.  
‘Brian and Tracy told us we should leave you alone and give you your space for a week or so, and when we told Yuzuru, to try to get him to change their minds, he said they were right, that you would reach out when you were ready and should be allowed to keep your distance if you needed it,’ Kanako sighed, rolling her eyes, and Shoma blinked, looking at the guilty faces in front of him blankly for a moment before letting out a small, bewildered laugh.  
‘Wait…so you’re trying to tell me you’re calling me from the laundry room because this is technically an illegal video chat?’ he asked them.  
‘Kinda,’ Kaori admitted, her face cutely scrunched up into a wince but amusement still traceable in her smile. Shoma laughed again, shaking his head.  
‘You guys are actually idiots, you know that?’ he murmured, soft and fond despite himself.  
‘Yeah, well, you’re in on it now so don’t tell on us,’ Kanako warned him quietly, and when he looked up into her face she was smiling so warmly at him it ached.  
‘That goes for you too!’ Wakaba smirked, leaning back to wag her finger at Kazuki. ‘You might be in with Yuzu now, but you’re one of us first.’ Kazuki’s face crinkled up with amusement, an endearingly wide smile splitting his features.  
‘Hey, I’m no snitch, I swear!’ he laughed, holding up his hands, and Keiji shot him a warm smile.  
‘Don’t let Waka bully you; Yuzu’s the one who would actually crush you in a fight – Waka would never have the heart.’  
‘Would too!’ Wakaba huffed and Keiji arched an eyebrow.  
‘You sure about that?’ he asked, gesturing to Kazuki. ‘You actually could manage to hurt this face…?’ Wakaba hesitated before letting out a petulant whine.  
‘Urgh, why do you have to be right?! No one could hurt that face!’  
‘Yuzu could,’ Kanako said confidently. ‘If he was defending Shoma, Yuzu absolutely _would_.’ She nodded solemnly and Shoma frowned at her.  
‘What makes you so sure?’ Kanako’s face softened into a knowingly kind expression, her dark eyes sparkling.  
‘Just something me and him talked about last night when he couldn’t sleep.’  
‘Wow. He’s auditioning a whole army of replacements for me, huh,’ Shoma muttered, glancing down, and Kanako made a sharp, accusatory sound.  
‘Don’t try and starve him of friends, Shoma: you have your brother, your family, but Yuzu doesn’t have that luxury. _We_ are his family. Besides – me and him used to stay up late together talking all the time when we were younger, long before you ever came here. Especially after his home became a Grey Zone, you know? I spent a lot of time giving him extra healing, and he would talk to me about anything but the situation at home and it made him feel better – last night was mostly just the same, minus the healing, of course. I mean…you? You, he might’ve told the real issue to, I think. But me? My job is to take his mind off it, and to make sure he leaves smiling…that’s all I can offer him.’ She looked down with a small shake of her head. ‘I wish he would talk about it, of course…but you’re not here and Javi says he won’t tell him anything either…so I did what I could when he let me. You shouldn’t want him not to at least have this much, Shoma.’  
‘You have to let him talk to people, you know,’ Nobu put in, suddenly sombre and brotherly. ‘I mean, he’s spoken to me, and Brian and Tracy…Ghislain, Misha, even Jun, I think…are you going to be cross with us all as well? You will have a whole army to fight, Shoma! Where does it end?! You can’t have exclusivity on his time even when you say you would rather be home than spend that time with him.’ Shoma squirmed, mildly chagrined.  
‘Yeah, ok, I didn’t need the lecture, I just…I didn’t expect it, that’s all.’  
‘What, you want him pining away for you?’ Keiji folded his arms. ‘Shoma, he has a job to do and he’s going to need a clear head to do it – you need to give him the same acceptance of his choices that he has given you for yours.’ Shoma nodded, not quite meeting his eyes, and Keiji sighed, offering him a conciliatory smile. ‘Besides, you can’t seriously have enjoyed practice questions with Yuzu this much that you’re now mad at everyone else he spends that time with: revising with Yuzu is a bruising experience for anyone, right?’ he offered, gentle and joking, and Shoma glanced up at him with a reluctant smile.  
‘Ah, it is _literally_ a bruising experience, Shoma! No one in their right mind would miss it, you know?’ Nobu agreed, suddenly all high drama again as he made a flourishing hand gesture for effect, almost taking out Kaori and Kanako in one fell swoop. Shoma turned his eyes skywards for a beat, shaking his head and laughing softly.  
‘I don’t have any bruises,’ Kazuki put in, soundly faintly concerned. ‘He just shakes his head at me…so maybe I really am doing everything wrong compared to you, Shoma.’ Keiji’s lips twisted into a dry smirk.  
‘Oh, trust me…you don’t want to try Shoma’s revision techniques…that would take more commitment than you would be willing to give, I think,’ he remarked, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief as Shoma attempted to glare at him.  
‘Maybe he’s being soft with you because he finds something endearing about you, huh? He thinks you’re too innocent for bruises,’ Kaori suggested brightly, and Keiji waggled his eyebrows at Shoma teasingly.  
‘Well he certainly doesn’t think Shoma’s so innocent, that’s for sure.’ Shoma stuck his tongue out at him and he bit back a laugh.  
‘Wow, so Kazuki has brought out a new, non-violent side of Yuzu – interesting,’ Nobu hummed, stroking his chin. ‘This is impressive, huh?’  
‘Or maybe even Yuzu can’t bring himself to hurt Kazuki after all,’ Mao suggested with mild amusement.  
‘If what Yuzu senses in someone is gentle, he’ll be gentle – he is perceptive like that, even without his power. He works on intuition and adapts quickly, because he has always had to,’ Takahito said softly, his gaze falling on Shoma, who blinked up at him, wide-eyed and curious. ‘Don’t be fooled by how quickly he can twist in mid-air to land on his feet. You may brace for impact and take the fall, then, in your own time, get back up once more. But his way takes all the same effort and then some, because he has never had the luxury of making things seem anything but effortless to the outside world.’ Shoma’s heart stuttered a little, and Takahito offered him a slow, kind smile, shrugging one shoulder. ‘It’s just something to think about, before you make assumptions based on second-hand stories – remember, Shoma, that’s the exact way you said you didn’t see him.’ Shoma nodded vaguely and looked away, not wanting to admit that he was letting himself grasp at the stories because they were all he had allowed himself to have. His fingers had been clenched into fists since he’d met him, desperately holding on to _his_ Yuzuru for so long that trying to unfurl them was an effort. He knew he couldn’t let it go on: holding on like this was unfair when he had told Yuzuru he needed to let go, and it was hypocritical when he so resented how badly the world always clutched at Yuzuru’s edges, trying to fix him into place and claim him like property. Shoma was too sharp to miss these things – too self-aware and perceptive – and he wasn’t going to let himself off for these errors in judgement, because he held himself to a higher standard than that. But at the same time he wasn’t sure how to make it stop, how to feel anything other than protective and desperate and stupidly fond; Yuzuru drew out the fierceness in him that so many people didn’t even know was there, and every time he saw it in him he would smile the dangerous smile and it only made the fire inside Shoma burn brighter. Shoma felt cold without it – it was an admission he hadn’t wanted to make to himself, but there is was, true and stark.

The others had moved on, mostly talking amongst themselves like he wasn’t even there, but when Shoma looked up he was surprised to find both Keiji and Satoko watching him, matching smiles of sympathy on their faces, their foreheads pinched in concern. He offered them a small, timid smile, shrugging one shoulder awkwardly and pulling a face which he hoped expressed something reassuring to them. He was aiming for “It’s Hard But I’m Coping, What Can You Do?” as the headline, but he rather feared it came across as something a little more broken and hopeless than that – he had wanted to let himself get lost, but the woods were darker and lonelier than he remembered them, and he missed the promise of lightning lingering at the edge of the shadows more than he had expected.

‘…actually, no, we really can’t. The whole restaurant has been booked out for the people from the ministry. Last minute emergency talks, I think.’  
‘Wait, Dai, are you serious?’  
‘Sure, why would I lie? I get on pretty well with the guy who runs it, and he said he was sorry he probably wouldn’t see us this weekend because he had to deal with the suits instead.’  
‘Wow, so Brian is spoiling them, huh. Things must be _bad_.’  
‘Kana.’  
‘What? Mao, you know it’s true. It’s the worst kept secret at the Foundation.’  
‘I was talking to Javi and Jason; they say they’ve never known Brian be so at odds with the Japanese ministry – Japan have always understood his view before.’  
‘He’s been to hell and back for Zhenya with the Russian ministry a hundred times but it always works out – why is this so different?’  
‘Waka, you know why.’  
‘No, don’t make me think – I’m tired.’  
‘Waka, it shouldn’t need thinking about; we all know things with Yuzuru tend to reach a whole other level, this time is no different.’  
‘Keiji’s right, you know; Zhenya is popular, powerful too…but Yuzu’s profile has gone beyond most of us with powers now, and things get complicated when so much external pressure gets piled on.’  
‘What exactly did Javi and Jason say, Satton?’  
‘That everything to do with the Alliance visit has been one big headache for Brian from the start. And that the ministry think he shouldn’t be letting Yuzu go.’  
‘Like Brian is ‘letting’ Yuzu do anything; the Alliance would throw a fit if he didn’t take Yuzu. And Yuzu would go out of his mind if he was the cause of a whole new rift.’  
‘Yeah, but apparently Brian actually doesn’t want Yuzu to go anyway – he tried everything to get them to change their minds. After what happened in Malaysia, he doesn’t trust them to act in Yuzu’s best interests.’  
‘And who can blame him. I knew Yuzu was ok by the time I saw the footage, but I still winced at how hard he went down.’  
‘Don’t remind me, Keiji, please: we were stuck back here feeling useless when we saw it.’  
‘Well, Brian clearly didn’t like it either, because he tried everything to stop this thing going ahead. He offered to go alone or with Tracy, and Javi even offered to step up if they insisted on one of the big names being there, you know? But the only counter-offer they would make was…well…Shoma.’

Shoma looked up sharply at the mention of his name, blinking, startled, at the screen, his eyes flicking from face to face in mildly panicked curiosity.  
‘Me?’ he managed in a croaky voice, and every pair of eyes in the room turned immediately towards him, as though they were surprised to realise he was still there. ‘Why?’ Shoma swallowed down the nervous tightness in his throat and tried to steady himself, summoning up just enough of his power within himself to ease his thudding heart a little. Satoko winced somewhat apologetically.  
‘Javi didn’t know that much, honestly. Most of what he did know he only found out from eavesdropping when Brian and Tracy were talking – it was all pieced together from half-heard sentences, you know? But…he’s still pretty sure this is why the ministry is so upset with Brian now: he didn’t only let Yuzu take on the Alliance visit instead of you without consulting them first, but he also let you go back to Japan on the earlier flight instead of holding off to keep their options open. They wanted to try to get you into this latest round of press somehow, apparently – even if you didn’t make the visit itself, they were hoping to minimize Yuzuru’s presence in the build up, to hopefully make the press see you with fresh eyes.’ Satoko’s expression shifted into something both pained and sympathetic as she noticed Shoma’s furrowed brow, and she sighed heavily, shrugging. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, Shoma – but I only found out this morning, and with travelling and time difference and then everything else on your mind…I just…’ She shook her head, frowning slightly and looking almost comically furious at herself. ‘It’s not an excuse. You’re my friend – I should’ve reached out.’  
‘It’s fine, Satton,’ Shoma said quietly, looking down and a soft sigh. ‘I get it. It’s fine.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘What can I even do with the information? It’s too late. What’s done is done. And it’s not like Yuzu would’ve just backed down and said “Send Shoma”, you know? I wouldn’t have even wanted to go and he would’ve known it no matter what I said. I’m sorry it’s caused problems for Brian, but I know Yuzu wouldn’t have let things go any differently even if I’d tried to dig in against him anyway, so what does it change?’  
‘Wow, a stubborn-off between you and Yuzu? I’m not sure I even want to know how badly that would’ve gone,’ Keiji said with a sadly wry smile, and Shoma let out a soft huff of a laugh, the sound a little broken and his eyes downturned.  
‘Well who would even win?! Shoma is so sturdy and sure – but Yuzu is a demon when he’s on a mission. He’d kill for the people he cares about, huh?’ Nobu rolled his eyes, and when Shoma looked up at him he felt his lips curve into a reluctant smile. Nobu shot him a fond wink. ‘You two, you are both nightmares.’  
‘We know. You all keep telling us,’ Shoma said, sticking his tongue out, and Nobu beamed warmly back at him. Shoma let out a sigh, slumping slightly. ‘Is it really causing this many problems? With the ministry, I mean? Yuzu being front and centre is what they want usually, isn’t it?’ Takahito pulled a face at that, shaking his head.  
‘It’s not always so straightforward, actually: the ministry and Yuzu have a rocky history, and with you being so strong a Healer, and so popular with everyone at the summit…they were kind of hoping they’d found their next face. Someone…with fewer complications.’  
‘But…they approved me coming home, Brian checked with them before he agreed to anything – they can’t blame him for something they signed off on. It’s not even his fault, I was the one who wanted to go.’  
‘Don’t sound so guilty, Shoma: this is just politics, and Brian has dealt with it all before, you know?’ Mao said, soft, gentle and slow, doing her best to make eye contact despite the pixels her expression was being filtered through. Shoma winced – pained and unconvinced – and she offered him a kind smile. ‘The ministry approved it but…I think they expected more time, that’s all.’  
‘And it didn’t help that they found out from the Alliance, rather than Brian, that they had asked after you – the ministry accused Brian of hiding things from them because of it. He said he didn’t think it was relevant, since he didn’t want to put you through it and you were leaving anyway, but the ministry started in on him about the special relationship between the Japanese government and the Foundation and how he was betraying it, how he wasn’t showing them the respect they deserved.’  
‘The Alliance are trying to disrupt the Foundation’s strongest relationship, then,’ Shoma said quietly, his expression turning dark and thoughtful as he glanced out of his bedroom window. The sunlight was somehow jarring – just talking to Team Japan had set him back on Foundation time, and somehow this felt like a conversation which needed the protection of a dark night’s sky and the feeling of being the only ones awake. Like his nights at the hotel in Singapore with Yuzuru – the lights of the city washing over his skin like a balm: he had felt so safe, so settled, like no one could hear his secrets and nothing could uproot him from the moment he was anchored in. He missed it so much in that moment he had to close his eyes and force himself to breathe in deep.  
‘It won’t work,’ Kaori said, gentle but somehow fiercely determined at the same time. ‘We can all speak up for Brian – and if they talk to you then you will too.’  
‘And of course Yuzu would fight for Brian, whatever good that would do,’ Keiji remarked softly, folding his arms and looking down with a pinched, concerned expression. ‘I mean, it would probably make it worse, honestly, but…still.’  
‘Everything is just stirred up right now, but the dust will settle; at first there is commotion, but then there comes a quiet, that is the nature of how the world turns. The trick is to keep believing that the sun will rise again, even after the stormiest of nights,’ Satoko said, calm and firm and resolute in that understated way of hers. There was something so quietly sure in her eyes that Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly, the very corner of his lips twitching up as they shared a small nod.  
‘It’s the media fuss more than anything,’ Daisuke offered with a shrug and a tired smile. ‘Right now the whole Foundation is crawling with press, and the ministry are the ones having to try and orchestrate it all. They want to take it out on someone, I think – and Brian’s an easy target.’  
‘Yeah; the ministry are the ones stuck choreographing and question-dodging, and they want someone to blame for not being able to just have their new go-to favourite Shoma to dangle in front of them so they can up his press status,’ Kanako nodded, rolling her eyes like she was over the whole thing, as if they weren’t talking about major international politics playing out and were instead discussing some drama that had befallen her at the last Team Japan picnic.  
‘But…why is Shoma their new go-to, exactly?’ Wakaba frowned.  
‘Yeah, I mean…why would anyone want to replace Yuzu?’ Kazuki added, glancing over at Shoma suddenly, his eyes widening in mild horror as he realised what he had said. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean-’ he began, his expression comically apologetic, and Shoma laughed slightly, cutting him off with a shake of his head.  
‘It’s fine. I…kind of did the same to you, right?’ he said, rolling his eyes wryly and sharing a small smile with Kazuki. Kazuki nodded uncertainly back at him, glancing down, and Shoma shrugged. ‘It’s fine. Really. I’m not bothered by it. I mean…you’re right, right? Why would anyone replace Yuzuru? Especially with me – I’m a disaster.’  
‘Actually, it’s never really been that simple for the ministry,’ Takahito said, pulling a face. ‘Yuzu’s always been one to know his own mind and to speak it – to insist on things and to go his own way, even when sticking to convention would be easier for all involved. It’s actually his strength, but it doesn’t make life easy – not for him, but also sometimes for the ministry. The way things have been twisted in the press has hurt him and them sometimes, and sometimes his decisions have unsettled people even in the highest levels at the ministry.’  
‘It’s true: there are people at the ministry who recognise he is an asset to them, but they resent that that means they have to accept his choices. His existence is so much outside the easy, rigid rules most things fall between that it makes them…dislike him, want to find ways to lessen his influence. Some of them? They just resent the respect he commands from the top ranks of government, and if they could find an alternative they would in a heartbeat,’ Kanako sighed.  
‘There are people at the ministry who would gladly sell Yuzu out if they thought they could afford to do it; they don’t actively put him down, but they don’t make his path easy unless those higher up the chain tell them to,’ Daisuke explained, and Mao pulled a face.  
‘It’s sad that it all comes from such petty reasons – he came out of nowhere at a time when all Japan’s investment in power development was being promoted heavily for how efficient and focused it was becoming, and some of them felt like it showed them up, derailed their plans, to have some little kid they had never really heard of come and take the world by storm. Add to that his force of will and the way he has always forged his own path regardless of their influence…’ She shrugged. ‘In you, Shoma, I think they see someone “safe”, someone who they can tell what to do and where to stand and who will do it to a satisfactory level without all the circus and drama on the side.’  
‘They think I’m a pushover,’ Shoma said flatly, his lips pursing just a little and his eyes turning stormy. Mao attempted to placate him with a soft smile and a shake of her head.  
‘No, Shoma…or if they do, then only in relation to Yuzu. After all, so far, you have always played by their rules. Yuzu hasn’t from the beginning: his powers can’t be categorised, his speeches are always his own words, and they are often more honest than the ministry would like…and then there is the way he came here to begin with. The whole world knew he would accept the invitation – the ministry felt powerless in their negotiations with the Foundation because of it. They wanted the upper hand, because back then they didn’t see the benefits of being so closely allied with the Foundation the way they do now. They wanted Yuzu to at least consider staying – to keep doing the fundraisers and government-approved tests and research for a little longer, and they hoped to stretch things out, to help them secure something solid for the Japanese government in return.’  
‘But Yuzu didn’t flicker, and they knew the Foundation knew it: there wasn’t a moment of doubt, not even just for the cameras. It annoyed them,’ Takahito nodded.  
‘That’s not true though,’ Shoma said softly. ‘The night before he had to announce it-’ He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly; it wasn’t his story to tell, and the memory of Yuzuru whispering it to him one late night in the garden was too precious for Shoma to want to damage it. ‘He doubts. He’s just better than most people at holding it together.’ He risked a glance up and saw Kanako looking at him with a thoughtful smile on her lips.  
‘He told you about his mum and her hot chocolate on his final night, huh?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow. Shoma opened his mouth then closed it again, and Kanako laughed softly. ‘He told me too, once. A long time ago on my first night at the Foundation. I felt foolish for feeling homesick, and he told me everyone is allowed to feel how they feel…but once they have felt it, they must pick themselves back up and keep walking forwards.’ Her eyes sparkled knowingly, and Shoma offered her a tiny smile.  
‘Yeah, well…Yuzu’s been walking forwards ever since,’ he sighed. Kanako let out a thoughtful hum.  
‘I suppose he has, maybe. But what other choice does he have, Shoma? If he stops, who will tell him he is allowed to feel how he feels, huh? He barely feels he is allowed to exist, never mind that he is allowed to feel the pain of that existence.’  
‘People tell him he’s lucky, but they’re wrong. They don’t see how hard he fights to breathe, to stand…how hard he works just to be something even close to what everyone wants to see in him,’ Kazuki said quietly, and when Shoma shot him a curious look he shrugged awkwardly, a sweet, wonky smile forming on his gentle face. ‘He chose to pay attention to me…it only seemed fair to pay him attention in return.’  
‘To see him as a person and not a headline,’ Shoma murmured, twisting his lips to one side in a reluctant smile. ‘He likes that,’ he nodded. Kazuki smiled too, sweet, pleased and wide, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes fondly.

There was a moment of quiet over everyone; the silence was full enough that Shoma could just make out the distant sound of the ocean breaking over the rocks below the Foundation’s cliff and the haunting caws of the birds. He turned his eyes down, distractedly running his finger along the edge of his laptop and worrying at his lip. ‘If…if Yuzu knew…about the Alliance asking about me…and about the ministry giving Brian such a hard time because of me…’ Shoma closed his eyes and swallowed hard. ‘If Yuzu knew all this stuff…why didn’t he tell me?’ he asked, his voice painfully small. When he risked a glance up, most of the group were avoiding his gaze, but Satoko met his eyes with a fiercely kind look, her lips curving up into a sad smile.  
‘Shoma,’ she murmured, somehow managing to make his name sound like a comfort. ‘Yuzu didn’t know until you were already gone – and when he found out he was so shaken, too stunned to even consider telling you, probably. I’ve never seen him look so pale, I don’t think.’ She shuddered, glancing over at Kanako, who shot Shoma a wan smile that looked out of place on her usually radiant face.  
‘I think it was maybe why he couldn’t sleep; he came to me looking like a cobweb, and for a moment I was back to that awful time when he came back from the Grey Zone. He said he wasn’t sure what was for the best, and…something was troubling him about the whole thing that he wouldn’t tell me.’ Kanako sighed deeply, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘What could I say, though? I had to say “Don’t tell Shoma, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him” – because any other answer would’ve been setting him up to worry this whole time. What’s done is done; it can’t be changed, and we shouldn’t be sending him off to deal with press tours and potential threats with hopeless distractions on his mind.’

Shoma simply nodded, biting back a sudden shock of feeling: because he realised he had sensed it, the moment Yuzuru found out. He’d been in the middle of the airport, waiting for his connection – unsure of what time it was and half-dizzy from lack of sleep. But he had dismissed the feeling almost immediately, put it down to his own exhaustion making him oversensitive. He winced at the memory, closing his eyes tightly and drawing the feeling back to the surface for a moment, replaying the sensation of floodwater in his lungs and thunder pressing at his ribs. It had been so hard to breathe, so intense his whole body had felt electric – and then it had receded in a raspy draw of breath, so sudden it was startling, its absence almost more painful as it left his throat cold and scratchy and his head heavy-thick. Shoma shuddered and blinked his eyes back open, trying to clear the fog of it from over him with an irritated huff; if Yuzuru had intended it as a flare, he would’ve been clearer, of that much he was sure, and he didn’t want to let himself slide into guilt and worry, because he already had enough of that to last him a lifetime. ‘Should I have told him differently, Shoma? Should I have told him “go to him” – would that have changed anything?’ Kanako asked tentatively, and Shoma forced a smile, the expression so stiff it cracked the corner of his lip. He pressed his tongue against the coppery taste of the blood, struggling to keep his body untensed and his eyes quiet.  
‘No. It was it was too late to change things.’ He shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I couldn’t stop him going to the Alliance any more than Brian and Javi could. And…I shouldn’t. It’s like catching a firefly in a jar, you know? All you do is shorten its life if you try to keep its light to yourself.’ Shoma sighed. ‘Some things need to be seen to be believed in. And…they’re usually the things people need to believe in the most. Yuzuru doesn’t belong to anyone – but he has chosen to give to _everyone_. It’s terrifying, but it’s his decision. A part of believing in Yuzuru is…believing he knows what he’s doing, believing in his heart and his mind and his power…believing he will always take the path that’s best, even if it seems reckless or difficult from the outside. I know he isn’t the character from legend the media want to make him: he is something real and good in a world that’s full of cruelty, a world which always tries to disprove and undermine every piece of magic it finds. He is every kind of magic, so they pick at him, they try to stare so close to make wild claims about knowing how the trick was done – like that can actually stop someone of his strength, like it wouldn’t be devastating to find out one day the magic wasn’t in him at all.’ When Shoma risked a glance up, Satoko was looking at him with dark, thoughtful eyes.  
‘And then there is you, Shoma: you do look close enough to know how the trick was done, but you still only see magic in him. That is something very powerful too, I think – don’t you?’

Shoma was spared the discomfort of having to answer by the sound of frantic footsteps on the stairs beyond the laundry room, and everyone’s heads turned as one; Shoma craned his neck, trying to see to the edge of the frame where the open doorway was only just visible. As he shifted, he caught sight of a breathless Mai skidding into the room, her eyes wide and flyaway strands of her hair sticking up at all angles.  
‘Code Red! Code Red!’ she announced as she came to a sliding stop, her voice high and gently frantic. ‘Javi and Tracy, heading this way – I mean, probably just Javi, because he was the one who said he had laundry to do, but he was with Tracy at the time. And there’s worse! The TV crew somehow found out about Yuzu meeting Jun later. Marin went to try and track Yuzu down to warn him, but we don’t know where he is for sure and he’s not answering his phone.’ Mai took a moment to catch her breath, then seemed to suddenly remember her manners, gasping sweetly and shooting Shoma a magical smile, something so full and genuine in her eyes as she beamed at him that Shoma smiled too. ‘Hi, Shoma! Is Japan still the best place on Earth?’ she asked him, waving, and Shoma laughed, giving her a small wave back and bobbing his head in a vague nod.  
‘It’s…pretty good, sure,’ he agreed. Mai’s smile seemed to grow impossibly wider, and she nodded back, her whole face bright and kind.  
‘Yay!’ She clapped. ‘I’m happy for you – I miss home sometimes too, so I understand.’  
‘Mai – concentrate,’ Keiji smirked fondly. ‘What were you saying about Yuzu?’ Mai let out a soft, sad sound, her expression crumpling as she brought her hands up to her mouth.  
‘Oh! Of course,’ she breathed, giving a small shake of her head. ‘I don’t know how they found out – me and Marin were sitting in the courtyard being lookouts like you all asked, and we were about to come and warn you about Javi and Tracy when the TV guys came past. They asked to have some shots of us sitting eating our ice cream by the pools, and we said we were just leaving, and one of them said to the camera guys that that was fine, because they’d heard Yuzuru was going to show up soon and they didn’t want to miss a chance to get some more shots of him before the press conference tomorrow.’ Mai gave a helpless shrug. ‘I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but Yuzu just looked so tired when I spoke to him earlier – I don’t think it’s fair we let him walk into an ambush, he’s already had to do so much today.’ Shoma’s lips curved up at one corner, fond and tired; Mai was protective of Yuzuru ever since he had gone out of his way to look after her at the summit – Shoma found it comforting, somehow, to think of Yuzuru being in the care of someone with such a warm, sincere heart.  
‘No, you did the right thing, Mai, don’t look so sorry for it – Yuzu’s done enough for one day and we all swore we would look after him whilst Shoma was gone,’ Kanako nodded.  
‘Then we need to divide and conquer,’ Kaori said, her eyes glittering with a mixture of excitement and determination.  
‘Me and Kazuki will go find Yuzu and warn him,’ Keiji offered, glancing over at Kazuki questioningly. Kazuki gave an enthusiastic nod.  
‘Sure. I think he said he was going to the library,’ he shrugged. ‘I can try calling him too…but I’m pretty sure he’s been screening all day. He answered two messages from Javi and ignored everything else when I was with him earlier.’  
‘Do what you can – and look out for any media wandering round in case they follow you, ok?’ Takahito said. Keiji and Kazuki nodded in unison then quickly headed out, casting parting waves in Shoma’s direction before hurrying out of the door.  
‘What should the rest of us do?’ Wakaba asked, glancing around the group and then looking back at Takahito expectantly.  
‘Work on the other problems, I guess?’ Takahito shrugged. ‘Me and Dai could probably head off the camera crew,’ he suggested, and Mao nodded.  
‘Good idea – I’ll help.’  
‘And the rest of us should distract Tracy and Javi, so they don’t walk in on us talking to Shoma and get cross that we didn’t take their advice,’ Kaori pointed out, glancing over at Shoma with a mischievous smile. ‘You’re going to get us into trouble otherwise.’  
‘Sure, because it’s my fault for answering the call,’ Shoma deadpanned, his eyes shining and his lips curving into a smirk. Kaori stuck her tongue out at him.  
‘You love us really, Shoma.’  
‘If you say so.’  
‘Play nicely, children,’ Daisuke laughed, and Shoma and Kaori shared a look for a moment, their smiles impish as they both turned their gazes back to Daisuke and pulled faces at him before caving in to their laughter. ‘And on that note…’ Daisuke said through a chuckle, jumping down. ‘Come on, Taka, let’s go sell our souls to the Japanese press in order to save everyone’s favourite pain in the neck.’ Takahito chuckled and nodded.  
‘Sounds like a fun way to spend a Friday night.’ He looked over at Shoma and offered him a warm smile. ‘I know you won’t, but…keep in touch, ok?’ Shoma smiled at him slightly, narrowing his eyes like he was working out a sum.  
‘Does that even make sense?’ he asked, and Takahito laughed, rolling his eyes at him.  
‘You know what I mean, Shoma. And…maybe I wasn’t really asking for me.’

The others all began to scramble to their feet, waving and calling out their goodbyes, and Shoma quietly waved back to them, pretending not to notice the way Kanako and Satoko held back, clearly waiting for everyone else to disappear. One by one, the rest of the group filtered out of the room, the babble and chatter of their conversation reverberating around the space until eventually everything fell quiet once more.  
‘If either one of you is about to tell me to come back…’ Shoma began, but Kanako quickly shook her head, her expression vaguely put out.  
‘Shoma, give us some credit: we’re your friends, we want what’s best for you,’ she said firmly.  
‘If you want to be home then you should be home, Shoma. And we didn’t tell you about what was going on with Yuzuru because we wanted to make you come back, we told you because you should know…because we thought you would want to know, that you might be cross if you had to find out after the fact,’ Satoko said, quiet and soft.  
‘Or worse – if you had to find out from the press,’ Kanako put in with a shudder. She slumped a little then, pouting exaggeratedly and drawing out a reluctant smile from him ‘Honestly, Shoma, we just hung back to make sure you were ok. And to say goodbye properly because we miss you,’ she said sincerely, her lips curving into one of her sweetly mischievous smiles as she rolled her eyes. ‘And yes, we know you don’t miss us _at all_ but…whatever.’ Shoma laughed, glancing down and biting at his lip guiltily.  
‘I wouldn’t say I didn’t miss you _at all_ , exactly,’ he confessed quietly, and Kanako let out a teasing gasp.  
‘Shoma! Was that you admitting you love us? Deep down?’ Shoma shot her a half-hearted glare.  
‘Don’t push it,’ he muttered, but there was a smile in his eyes, and when he looked over at Satoko she was fighting a laugh. ‘Not you too, Satton,’ he whined.  
‘Hey, I didn’t say anything!’ she protested, but there was a playful glint in her eyes that gave her away. And it felt nice. To just talk to them – to be silly with them. To feel, just for a moment, that no one was in any danger of asking him to examine the complicated mixture of feelings in his chest. He was temporarily safe from any probing questions about his future, safe from gazes which seemed to see straight through him and safe from having to consider the forces at play in the world beyond his bedroom. And Satoko and Kanako seemed willing to let him have it, asking pleasant questions about his journey and his hometown and letting the conversation ebb out into a quiet goodbye, like it was just the end of mixed sessions and they might see him at Team Japan’s breakfast the next morning. Time skipped, and the moment hung briefly in the air; for just a second, he wasn’t sitting on the other side of the world from them, already in tomorrow whilst they dawdled in the dusk of the night before. Instead he was simply caught somewhere outside of it all, set above and apart from the noise.

After hanging up the call, Shoma felt restless; he tried to push the feeling off and distract himself by tackling his and Itsuki’s list of chores, but his agitation made him too efficient and he soon found himself back where he started, sitting on his bed feeling unsettled and oddly stifled. He glanced out of the window, looking somewhat distrustfully up at the dirty-blue sky; the remnants of rain still clung to every surface, but the worst of the showers seemed to have passed for the day, and in their place was a tentative haze of sunlight. He didn’t particularly want to go out, but he had energy that needed somewhere to go and a head that wouldn’t quieten without distraction, so he grabbed his jacket and his headphones and got up from the bed with sudden determination – he wasn’t sure where he was going, only that he was going out. He left a hurried note in case his parents came home before him – knowing the last thing they would expect was for him to voluntarily leave his bed the day after returning home and not wanting them to worry upon finding the house empty – and sent Itsuki a brief message before pocking his phone and slamming out of the front door with more force than was strictly necessary. It wasn’t a long walk to the bus stop, and Shoma moved on a kind of autopilot, his body falling into the familiar route and muscle memory taking over as he turned the volume up on his music and tuned the world out. The freedom of it was soothing, and although his eyes were down and his expression was intense, he felt a little easier with the chance to stretch his legs and feel the air on his skin; it was a luxury he hadn’t had at the Foundation, being able to just walk off and do his own thing, keeping his head down and his power low. Having no plans at the Foundation was almost unheard of – aimlessness was something reserved only for his midnights with Yuzuru, and even then he was always wondering if, in the back of Yuzuru’s mind, there was some greater purpose going on, some direction he was always subtly steering him in. Sitting on his own at the back of the bus, Shoma took a moment to close his eyes and feel the window rattle against his forehead – Yuzuru twisted into view behind his closed eyelids just for a moment, his expression intense and his fingers delicate as he held out a hand to Shoma, touching the edges of his face with a soft sigh, petals still falling from his hair. Shoma quickly opened his eyes with a shudder of breath; when he looked out of the window, he realised he was near the stop for his favourite park and smiled slightly. He could run this off – that was a suitably vague sort of plan, something which might keep him in that checked-out-yet-focused place he was striving for.

He jogged the well-worn route without having to think about it; it was the same path he’d followed every other time in his life when he’d needed to dispel pent-up anxiety with stitches in his side and a burning in his lungs. Exams. Fights with Itsuki. The day his invitation to the Foundation had arrived. Those awful weeks just after Sota had been shipped off somewhere too far away. The air should have been filled with all the bad memories he had breathed out into it over the years, but somehow the space still calmed him anyway; it was quiet, a little known spot away from everything, and there was something soft and subdued about the scenery, everything green and grey and damp. There were puddles on the ground, and even over the sound of his music Shoma could hear the harsh, artless splash of his trainers stamping through them as he pounded forwards – un-seeing, un-thinking, eyes dead ahead. The jarring thump of it ran through his whole body, each step shaking out a doubt or a fear or an unwelcome ache of longing until all he felt was the sting of not-enough-oxygen and the roaring of his music in his ears. This was his therapy – the thing talking had never been able to do for him. To be steadfast – to be sure – Shoma didn’t need opinions and perspectives and possibilities, he needed quiet and hard earth beneath him. He needed tunnel vision and a clear view of the light at the tunnel’s end. He needed _himself_. Ironically, it was only Yuzuru who had seemed to realise that – Yuzuru, the one person who had been hurt by it the most.

The air was dewy and thick, still heavy with rain and cold enough to keep Shoma’s senses alert; few people had ventured out into the damp-tarmacked afternoon, and Shoma’s power felt quiet and grounded inside him, sensing just enough to supply the required hum of presence from Yuzuru’s thunder, the sound loud enough only to keep their promise and little else. Tentatively, Shoma allowed some of the thoughts he had been keeping at bay to creep back in, letting down his defences just a little and giving them the space they needed inside his head for him to really process them. As always, Yuzuru was the first thing to slip past the fallen guards, trailing petals and lightning in his wake and humming in the space he occupied, like his body was music and Shoma’s bones recognised the song. He thought of him as he had seen him last – messy and devastated but somehow smiling, his heart so sincere and his hope as palpable as ever as he wished Shoma well. Shoma quickened his pace just a little, his muscles screaming at him, and the image shifted to another memory: Singapore’s lights blurring Yuzuru’s edges and the feeling of saltwater filling his lungs, the taste of marshmallows at his lips….Yuzuru’s body, warm, lean and full of force. Now it was his heart which screamed, and he forced the memory back. Dusk and stories in the garden. Laughing over fast-food. The buzz of Yuzuru’s music as he held out a headphone in silent invitation. The bewildering clunk of being hit between the eyes by the bobbling cartoon dog on the end of Yuzuru’s pen as they both did a terrible job of studying. The light of Yuzuru’s face, beautiful and delighted, as Shoma agreed to stay. Shoma ran and ran, getting faster with each memory until he couldn’t keep the pace any longer, and he had to pause to lean against a tree, catching his breath and closing the floodgates, retreating back to the emptiness once more and edging up the volume on his music. He closed his eyes, swallowed hard and steadied himself, bracing his hands on his knees and letting his fringe fall forwards in a matted swoop; when he looked up again he viewed the world through the curtain of his hair, his eyes narrowed just slightly as he tried to decide if he could take another lap or if he should be sensible and walk back towards the bus stop. But sensible wasn’t what he wanted in that moment – what he wanted was to be so bone-tired everything went numb and the world around him became an inoffensive blur. No more thoughts and feelings for today: he was spent and done and too ragged at his edges.

He was on his second extra lap when he actually focused on the woman in the navy coat on the periphery of his vision; she was wiry and glum, with the kind of eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing at the same time. He deliberately avoided looking up, jerking his head quickly the other way and continuing to thump forwards with heavy footsteps and heavier breaths until he came to a reasonable point to stop, subtly slowing his pace until he ground to a halt by the same tree as before. Carefully he twisted his body into a stretch, angling himself to catch a glimpse of the thin, angular figure still hovering in the distance; he was sweating from the exertion of running so hard for so long, but he shivered all the same. _He recognised her._ From the bus. And the park entrance. And the other side of the path he’d been following – she’d walked past him at least half a dozen times since he got here. He swallowed, lifting his arms over his head and bowing his head slightly as he arched up into another stretch, careful not to let on to the woman that she had been spotted. She cut an unusual figure in the near-empty park; she had pale, sallow skin and a way of holding herself that was so unnaturally still it would’ve been easy to mistake her for being some curious art installation made of wax and horsehair, and when she did move it was stiff and precise – something quick and sharp in the way she would tilt her head and tuck her hair behind her ear. She held something in her hand which almost looked like a phone, but the way she turned it over every now and again was strange – every time she angled it back towards him just a little more, her beady eyes flicking up and casting assessing glances his way. Shoma took a deep breath, forcing his face into a blank mask, his eyes turning steely in an instinctive defence mechanism; she didn’t seem to realise he was looking at her, and he fought to keep his power down and his heartbeat steady, not wanting to risk any accidental time stops which might give him away.  
‘The dark is strong but you are stronger,’ he whispered to himself, taking a moment to close his eyes and allow the memory in, the smallest smile briefly curling his lips. Yuzuru’s belief was a comfort, but also a reminder: because Shoma did believe it too, deep down, he just forgot himself sometimes. ‘Even behind cloud, the sun still shines.’ There was healing in the remembered sound of Yuzuru’s whispers, and Shoma could almost feel the ghost of his fingers at his wrist – the panic which had been climbing its way up his throat and clawing at his ribcage slowly receded, making it a little easier for Shoma to breathe. ‘Steadfast. Constant. Strong.’ His phone chimed, making him jump slightly, and, with another sidelong glance in the woman’s direction as she pretended to be admiring some flower beside the path, he fished it out of his pocket, carefully angling his body to try and seem casual and unbothered. Just another twenty-year-old, out for a run, unable to disconnect from his phone for more than five minutes at a time – nothing to see, or stalk, here.

There were messages collecting on his lockscreen – notifications mostly from the Team Japan group chat which he had meant to mute but hadn’t quite had the heart to. The only message he hesitated over before swiping the mess away was from Keiji, which read “Found Yuzu. He’s ok and we kept the media away. Some press stuff is going on back home that’s making all this harder on him I think, so Misha and Kazuki are with him now trying to calm him down before it all kicks off tomorrow. But I promise you Kazuki’s still not trying to steal your boyfriend, so be nice, Nightmare!”, and Shoma rolled his eyes, making a mental note to send a message reminding Keiji that Yuzuru was definitely not his boyfriend. His latest message was from Itsuki – another attempt to coax him out with his friends – and, like the other messages, Shoma brushed it away, swiping through to his contacts list instead. He scrolled down to Yuzuru’s name and pulled his info up onto the screen, still working hard to keep himself calm and not alert the woman to his having spotted her; he put his thumb over the call button but deliberately didn’t press, instead stuffing the phone back into his pocket and squaring his shoulders, steeling himself to set off at a jog once again, emboldened, somehow, by the knowledge that Yuzuru was just a tap of his thumb away.

He pushed himself off from the tree, deliberately heading back the way he had come; the woman looked up and he nodded politely the way one did to strangers, his grip on his phone in his pocket tightening just a little as she returned the gesture, offering him a thin, reptilian smile. He picked his pace up and turned his eyes back to the path ahead with fierce determination, his fingers tight around his phone the whole way back to the bus stop as he fought the urge to glance back to see if the woman was following. His lungs were still burning even as he finally collapsed into his bus seat, and as he glanced out of the window he noticed the woman standing a little way from the bus stop, talking in hushed tones to a man in a conspicuously nondescript grey suit, the two of them standing too close together and definitely still watching him. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into his palm, willing himself to slump back into his seat and trying not to let his fear seize him in case the shockwaves reached Yuzuru – he didn’t want to rattle him after what had clearly already been a rough day for him, and even with his thumb still poised to make the call, to send out the flare, he realised he had, in his own way, stood his ground, fighting his power’s instinct to overreact and pushing through with the resolve to at least appear calm, even as his heartbeat raced inside. ‘The sun, the sun, the sun – you’re the sun,’ he murmured to himself, slipping his headphones down around his neck and pulling his phone from his pocket. He tapped the screen and looked down at the image; Yuzuru had set it, because he had been outraged at Shoma’s lack of contact pictures and wouldn’t stand for it, and Shoma still remembered lying beside him on the grass, laughing at him and calling him ridiculous for the millionth time as Yuzuru ignored him, taking the photograph anyway, the two of them flush-faced and messy-haired against a backdrop of grass and petals and wildflowers. ‘Thank you,’ Shoma whispered to the picture, before closing his eyes and letting the smallest ray of sunlight open out inside his chest, willing it out into the distance to where he knew Yuzuru’s storm clouds lingered. He smiled slightly as he felt a tentative roll of thunder answer back from across the miles. The bus doors closed with a loud thud and Shoma sank back gratefully into his seat. ‘The sun always rises, right?’ he murmured, rolling his eyes at himself and shaking his head. He closed his eyes and leant against the window with a sigh. ‘Thank you, Yuzuru,’ he repeated softly, and a part of him was sure Yuzuru heard. 

Shoma got off the bus two stops early, making a detour to the convenience store on the corner that he and his brother used to buy sweets from on their way back from school; he was still in need of a distraction, feeling wary and on-edge, and somehow the childhood tradition of smuggling illicit junk food home to eat before dinner without his mother’s permission offered a curious sense of security. He picked up an armful of his favourite snacks, and chose some of Itsuki’s favourites for good measure, just about managing to remember not to try and pay with nothing more than a flash of an ID card, and on his way out of the shop he messaged Itsuki to let him know. His brother replied in seconds: the words “I’M SO GLAD MY BEST BIG BROTHER EVER IS HOME!!!” lit up Shoma’s phone screen, and he let out a soft, fond laugh, rolling his eyes but smiling to himself all the same. For all that Itsuki could be blunt and quick to tease, Shoma was never in any doubt of the genuineness of his affection, which he always offered so freely, even when Shoma wasn’t sure he deserved it – where Shoma spoke with actions, Itsuki preferred words, yet somehow they always understood each other’s language intuitively and had done since they were children. That, at least, was still a part of his identity, it seemed, no matter what else may have shifted in his time at the Foundation.

The rain set in half way through Shoma’s walk home; he was too exhausted to make even the most half-hearted of attempts to run for cover, so instead he simply yanked his jacket collar up to his ears, kept his head down and pushed forwards. By the time he made it to his front door, the grey storm clouds passing overhead had covered everything in a heavy dark, making it feel later than it really was, and there was something weighty and full about being able to escape into the glow and vibration of home; the house was warm, the low buzz of the television and the smell of his mother’s cooking filling the air, and Shoma hummed against it in relief and appreciation, brushing uselessly at his wet jacket and pushing his fringe out of his eyes. His hair was curling, large drops of rain dripping from the ends and running down his skin in cold, silver pathways, and he shook his head vigorously, spraying raindrops everywhere.

He found his mother in the kitchen, and when she looked up to greet him, he caught a vaguely despairing look in her eyes that made him smirk slightly.  
‘Shoma – you have a raincoat, a good one,’ she sighed, wiping her hands on her apron and folding her arms. Shoma shrugged idly and pulled himself up to sit on the counter.  
‘It wasn’t raining when I left.’  
‘What are we going to do with you, huh?’ his mother said with a small, despairing smile. ‘This is what happens when you hardly ever leave the house: you forget how to behave like a normal, functioning member of society.’ His mother’s eyes shone with a fondness as she spoke, and Shoma couldn’t help but grin impishly back at her, shrugging dismissively.  
‘It’s just rain, Mum. I’ll live,’ he said, eyes sparkling, and his mother shook her head.  
‘Or you’ll catch a cold and be miserable and sick for the rest of your first week home,’ she told him, narrowing her eyes. ‘You are terrible at being sick, Shoma, I would have thought you would know better than to run the risk.’  
‘Why do you always worry about me more than Itsuki? Even though he’s younger?’ Shoma asked, leaning back on his hands and tilting his head to one side curiously, and his mother’s lips twitched up into a soft yet heartfelt smile.  
‘Because yours is the gentler spirit,’ she said, eyes warm and shining. ‘And in any case: you were the first, Shoma. You were the one who taught me the true meaning of worry – small enough to feel breakable even in my arms, you were quiet and fragile and seeming always to understand more than you let on. That is how you still stay in my mind forever; you have changed and not changed at the same time…so…I will worry and you will not complain.’ Shoma’s lips twisted as he tried not to smile, and his mother gave a small, knowing nod, turning back to her cooking. ‘I see all the chores I left got done whilst we were out,’ she remarked, flicking a knowing, sidelong glance Shoma’s way. ‘But I wonder, Shoma, since your brother must have left early to go meet his friends, whether his half were done really by the brother I assigned them to.’ Shoma smiled dryly, rolling his eyes.  
‘Mum, can you just be happy they got done and leave it at that? Itsuki’s allowed to enjoy his weekend how he wants.’ His mother regarded him out of the corner of her eye.  
‘Maybe this is true, Shoma. But I have to wonder: is this really what you came home from the Foundation for, huh? To do your little brother’s chores?’ She arched an eyebrow at him and Shoma wrinkled his nose, quickly looking away.  
‘Mum, can we please not talk about this now.’ His mother let out a thoughtful hum, her gaze assessing and sceptical but her lips still curved up into a small smile.  
‘Fine, maybe not now. You need to dry off before dinner, after all. But, Shoma: remember, you can always be by his side just as you have since you were children, without being literally by his side, you know? Some people leave imprints: they shape us and live in our stories and in our actions, and in that sense we carry them with us everywhere. You don’t have to be close to home to be close to home, all you have to do is be sure to carry what you need when you go, ok?’ Shoma nodded, avoiding her piercing gaze and biting at his bottom lip.  
‘I get it, Mum,’ he said quietly, pulling a face. ‘You sound like Satton.’  
‘Well then this Satton must be very wise,’ his mother told him with a laugh and Shoma smiled slightly, rolling his eyes. ‘Now go on – go dry off and change and stop dripping all over my kitchen.’

Shoma made it as far as the door before his mother called out to him again. ‘I spoke to Sota’s mother today, by the way.’ Shoma froze, turning slowly back towards her.  
‘Mum,’ he said warningly, but she waved a dismissive hand in his direction.  
‘She won’t tell anyone you’re home, Shoma: only Sota, and I’m sure Mr. Orser expected you to at least tell your friends you were back, right?’ Shoma made a noncommittal sound, sighing and closing his eyes. ‘She had seen something in the paper about you maybe being back anyway – so I told her you would get in touch with Sota and arrange something. It’s been so long since you saw each other, and I think maybe you could use a friend right now.’  
‘Mum-’ Shoma began, but his mother cut him off with a firm shake of her head.  
‘No protests, Shoma. He is free tomorrow and so are you. I’m not telling you what to do with this information – but I am hoping you will make a good decision all the same.’ Shoma groaned.  
‘I was going to do coursework tomorrow,’ he complained, knowing it would do no good, and his mother hummed, not bothering to look away from her cooking.  
‘And maybe if you hadn’t walked away from the Foundation for good, Shoma, this would be enough of an excuse to hide in your room. But you have no other purpose any longer, if this is the path you take…unless you give yourself some purpose. If you are home? Then my only condition on accepting this choice of yours is that you must accept it is a choice you have truly made, and you must build your life here. That is the crossroads you are facing – you must face it with open eyes, and all the information possible at your fingertips. So ring Sota. Meet him tomorrow. Talk, for once. See if your oldest friend can maybe help you decide on your newest path.’

Shoma knew better than to argue; he hated arguing at the best of times, but with his mother the discomfort of conflict was compounded by the futility of knowing winning was not an option. He skulked off to his room and did as he was told, messaging Sota and briefly commiserating with him over pushy parents before agreeing a time and place to meet up the next day. Luckily it wasn’t long before Itsuki returned home in a clatter of enthusiasm, and Shoma didn’t have time to dwell on his conflicted feelings towards his mother’s words, too busy laughing and being bombarded with Itsuki’s wild weekend stories, his unbidden hugs and his immense excitement for illicit pre-dinner sweets.

As the familiar routine of a Saturday night dinner with his family settled in around him, Shoma was almost able to forget the spiny woman in the navy coat and the fit of panic she’d stirred up in him – everything was comfortable and safe and familiar, and the possibility that some cold-faced stranger could really have been following him around seemed faintly ridiculous in the face of that feeling. As the rain picked up outside, everything inside somehow became calmer; the air was heavy and quiet and warm, and events fell into a happily mundane pattern which ended, as Saturday dinners always did, in Shoma and Itsuki squashing next to each other on a selection of cushions on the living room floor, playing games on their phones whilst their parents watched the television.

It was late, and Shoma felt pleasantly exhausted as he splayed out on the living room floor, abandoning his phone and stifling a yawn with the cushion he was lying on; his body had yet to decide on a time zone, and whilst his head had grown fuzzy, he wasn’t quite ready to sleep, so instead he star-fished out, grumbling half-heartedly as Itsuki poked and teased at him.  
‘Lightweight,’ Itsuki smirked, and Shoma shot a weak glare his way.  
‘Leave me alone – I ran, like, a million miles today.’  
‘That’s your own dumb fault; I said get some fresh air, not train for the marathon.’  
‘I had a lot on my mind, ok?’  
‘Makes a change from you having nothing on your mind.’  
‘Shut up, like you’re so smart.’  
‘Smarter than you.’ Itsuki stuck his tongue out at Shoma and Shoma pulled a face, elbowing him sharply in the side and smirking when he rolled dramatically off his cushion. ‘Mum, Shoma’s bullying me,’ he pouted as he flopped onto his back, his eyes twinkling roguishly, and Shoma smiled softly, shaking his head.  
‘You know, those years when I was an only child? They were good. We should go back to that,’ he muttered and Itsuki laughed, unbothered, pushing himself back up and slumping down close enough to Shoma that he could rest his head on his shoulder.  
‘You know I don’t believe you when you say things like that, right?’ Shoma shot him a sidelong glance and Itsuki shrugged. ‘You’ve been my best friend for…literally as long as I can remember…like, I only have about three memories from when I was little that don’t involve you…you’d have ditched me years ago if you didn’t like me at least a little bit. And…honestly? That…probably goes both ways, I guess.’ Shoma suppressed a smile, nudging his brother lightly.  
‘Stop being sweet – it doesn’t suit you,’ he replied with a wicked curl of a smirk, and Itsuki nudged him back sleepily, letting out a small yawn of his own. ‘Now who’s the lightweight, huh?’ Shoma laughed.

As Shoma shifted to let Itsuki lean on him more comfortably, a sudden flurry of flashes on the television screen caught his eye, and he glanced up, squinting at the commotion; his parents had switched on the news, and Shoma realised, with a small catch of breath, that the headline story of the night was focused entirely on the Foundation’s cooperation with the Alliance. He felt his whole body go still, his heart shuddering just a little inside his chest as he blinked and refocused, taking in the sharp, sinewy silhouette in the centre of the flashbulb storm and realising he knew that outline all too well.

Yuzuru moved through the chaos with easy grace, walking with the purpose and casual calm of someone who wasn’t silently breaking, his eyes dark and steely even as his lips curved into a polite, tranquil smile which was almost convincing, if you didn’t know him. He looked the part, his hair slicked back to make his features seem sharper, his Foundation jacket the formal-looking black one with the gold lettering, crisp and business-like, proudly displaying gold wings where usually the symbols of the three power categories would be. But there were clues there, though, for someone who had his face memorised as well as Shoma did, like his near-black eyes and the shadows beneath them, the way his head lolled just that bit too much into nods and bows as he greeted the journalists and took his seat beside Brian, the nervous, quick movements of his fingers as he adjusted the microphone in front of him. He’d been worrying; Shoma knew because his lips – curved into a thin and tightly polite smile – were coated in too much lip balm. It was something he always did when he was about to face the press: cap and uncap the ridiculous little cat-shaped container, run the lip balm across his lips three times and then click it back closed, only to repeat the process again and again. During the summit trip Shoma had taken to stopping him by clapping his hand over the top of Yuzuru’s as he recapped the container, initiating a half-hearted tug-of-war over it and then leaning his weight into his side until the tension went out of his body and his fingers uncurled beneath his own. Shoma felt his hand twitch at the memory, instinctively wanting to move to him, to pull the microphone out of his reach and beg him to stop, to breathe. He could feel Itsuki casting him a curious look and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his face relaxed, trying to will the intense fascination out of his body. But he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

The images of the press conference were briefly replaced by fluff-shots; Ashley and Adam hamming it up for the cameras before bursting out laughing, Marin blowing a kiss, waving and then giggling into Mai’s shoulder, Nathan playing his guitar whilst Team Canada and Team USA cooed and cheered, Evgenia and Jason running across the courtyard to catch up with Javier, Boyang laughing toothily and clapping as Misha conjured a bunch of flowers like a cabaret magician and finally the Shibutanis standing outside the bakery, pointing something out to a gaggle of school trip kids and nibbling on cookies – everything nonsense and sweetness and warmth. And then the scenes shifted; footage from the summit and power demonstrations, Yuzuru and Javier standing side-by-side meeting foreign dignitaries at some formal event from a few months ago, Yuzuru and Nathan shaking hands with American politicians at an official breakfast in Malaysia. Yuzuru and Shoma whispering at the back of a photoshoot – Yuzuru’s eyes alight and his smile unguardedly joyous as he leant back and looked into Shoma’s face expectantly, only for Shoma to mutter something darkly and set him off laughing, glorious and incandescent. Shoma felt his cheeks grow hot. Fortunately the tone shifted, the story moving along to cover a little basic information about the Foundation and the Alliance and their somewhat rocky history, and Shoma used the break to recover, blowing out a breath and closing his eyes for a moment. He felt Itsuki press against him slightly, and he pressed back, tentative but grateful.

When he looked up again the story was moving its focus once more, Yuzuru’s history being played out in old photographs and news footage Shoma vaguely remembered from when Yuzuru had first gone to the Foundation – a simplification of events that sped determinedly forward to the present day, debating his role in Foundation-Alliance relations over the top of the footage they must have been collecting the previous day; Team Japan sitting out together in the courtyard, forming a protective guard of honour around Yuzuru at one of Brian’s meetings, Yuzuru and Jun laughing together as they worked side-by-side in mixed sessions, Tracy, Javier and Yuzuru standing over some notes in her lecture hall, deep in discussion, Ghislain and Yuzuru tossing energy strands back and forth in a training session and Kazuki and Yuzuru sitting side by side, their legs swinging over the ledge of the library’s ceiling shelves, Yuzuru talking at Kazuki as he nodded his head tentatively in response. And then contrasting footage of Yuzuru during the summit was interspersed: photoshoots and lunches, meet and greets, Yuzuru always turning to his side or glancing behind him, laughing in the middle of a presentation or slipping subtly into seats which weren’t originally intended for him. There was footage from the airport. Something invasive shot through the window of a coach. And even when he wasn’t visible, Shoma knew he was there for every moment – the reason for the whispers and the animation and the sly expressions, the cause of the laughter, the person sitting beside the vacated seat. It made him wince to see how noticeable it made his absence in the newly shot Foundation scenes.  
‘You two were always side-by-side, huh?’ Shoma’s mother remarked softly, making Shoma jump slightly. ‘He must miss you,’ she added, and Shoma shook his head slightly.  
‘Yuzuru’s too busy to miss anyone for long,’ he murmured. It was a lie. Yuzuru always had the energy to ache for something – emotion was what he did best, letting it pour out of him when needed and training it into something focused and powerful when ragged edges were too dangerous to be allowed.  
‘He is very young to carry all he carries and to do it with such grace; I have to wonder what else goes on beneath the surface that the cameras are not allowed to see,’ Shoma's father offered, and Shoma’s lips twisted into a sad smile.  
‘Oceans,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Oceans are underneath his surface. Stormy ones.’ Shoma glanced back at his parents with a small shrug. ‘You have to be all force if you’re going to save the world, you know? So that’s what he is. Total force. Of nature and of will.’ His mother shot him a curious smile.  
‘And he is going to save the world, then? You believe this?’ Shoma looked back at the screen with a nod.  
‘Yes. He won’t ever settle for anything less than the whole world in total technicolour.’ He bit down on the inside of his cheek. ‘I’m not sure he knows how to be happy just for himself…but if he managed to fix the Grey Zones…if he could put his hometown back to how it was before and give his family their colours back…then I think…maybe he might finally learn.’  
‘That’s asking a lot,’ Shoma’s father remarked with a soft chuckle, and Shoma smirked.  
‘“A lot” is kind of Yuzuru’s brand, Dad,’ he said, so achingly fond that Itsuki gave him an understanding nudge. ‘But…that’s what makes him Yuzu. There’s no one else who could be him…no one else could do it so well.’ Shoma’s smile gentled into a soft pink curve of a thing, his eyelids heavy and his gaze lowered – he looked down at the gold lines of his power mark and could almost feel the ghost of Yuzuru’s fingertips moving across his skin in cool, healing whispers. ‘He’s just…amazing. Not as a legend or a fighter or a conjurer…but as a human being. He’s got this weirdly delicate heart and a crazy-sharp mind…and an infinite capacity for hope and lightning, even when all the universe offers him nothing but trial and judgement in return. He chooses to believe that, one day, everything he has put out there will come back to him – but he won’t complain if it doesn’t. Because that’s not why he does what he does. I mean…I don’t really know why he does what he does, I guess…except that…it’s who he is. He was just…built to believe in things, I think. And to make other people believe in them too.’

Shoma tugged at a loose thread in the cushion, focusing that bit too hard on pulling it in a loop around his finger. Itsuki bumped his shoulder into him again, quietly compassionate and somehow protective, and Shoma flicked a glance up at him, rolling his eyes and pulling a face. Itsuki leant in, as though he was about to whisper something, but before he could get the words out, something on the television caught both his and Shoma’s attention, making them turn their gazes back up to the screen in unison.  
‘…but with reports of the departure of one of your rising stars in Shoma Uno, you have to admit that this seems to be a strategic time for such a visit and such talk of collaboration, right?’ Shoma’s eyes widened slightly. On screen the camera cut to Brian, sitting behind his microphone, smiling with a grim sort of pleasantness as the man from some international news organisation continued his question. ‘Can you confirm the reports surrounding Shoma Uno’s departure? And if these reports are true, could you give us a little more clarity on his decision to part ways with the Foundation? Is this another case of the Foundation losing political ground and credibility, forcing your hand in reaching out to those organisations growing in popularity, such as the Alliance? Or is this something more specific to Uno’s relationship to the Foundation and the press?’

Shoma’s heart stopped, his whole body tensing; Brian was still somehow smiling, but there was something pained in his eyes, and just at the edge of shot, Shoma could see Yuzuru, staring determinedly down at the table in front of him and biting at the corner of his lip – Shoma wanted to press his thumb against the spot and heal it, to tell him he was sorry and to lift the shadows from his expression. It was a cold, helpless feeling.  
‘If you’re referring to the recent _incorrect_ reports in some corners of the media about Shoma having left us and our work here on a permanent basis, or under some kind of cloud of negativity or disagreement or whatever else it is which has been printed since I last checked…then I am more than happy to confirm to you all that there is no truth in these notions whatsoever, and I can also confirm that any and all speculation about so-called “political” decision making is so far from the minds of both Shoma himself and the rest of us working here to find a solution to the Grey Zone problem that it certainly is not a determining factor in any recent developments on any level,’ Brain said, firm and calm. Yuzuru’s eyes were dark and steely as he flicked a glance up at the gathered press like he was daring them to disagree, and Shoma didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  
‘But you can confirm Shoma Uno is no longer a part of the Foundation’s plans going forward?’ the journalist pressed, and Brian let out an exhausted chuckle, somehow managing to keep a benevolent smile on his face even as his eyes turned as coolly disapproving as Yuzuru’s.  
‘Shoma – like every other member of our establishment here – is welcome, at any time, to take leave to return home and be with his family. He is young, he is a relatively fresh face at our organisation and he is very powerful, but he’s a hard little worker, who hasn’t had a break since he arrived with us and who has also just endured a very heavy workload as part of our recent tours of Singapore and Malaysia; he is entitled to recover from that however he needs to. It has nothing to do with our work towards collaborative efforts with the Alliance and nothing to do with any over-arching grand plans or philosophies from outside groups – it is a personal matter, and as such has been dealt with privately the same way family leave has been being dealt with here since the Foundation began. Shoma is one of our best and brightest, but he is a human being to us first, not a tool: his commitment to the Foundation’s beliefs is not in question here, and neither is his character or the character of any of those around him. This is a simple case of an everyday event being blown out of proportion in the media because it suits the present narrative, and, unfortunately, the greater the story becomes, the more difficult it becomes for him, or for any of us, to work on the path forwards, so I would request you give him the peace and time he needs, as we have here, and in time I’m sure you will see there is no ill feeling or political scheming to be found. Shoma is a good friend to many here, he is one of our most diligent, hard workers and a talented Healer and, I think it is true to say, he has proved more popular with the general public than perhaps we were expecting. But, given the nature of his, frankly, fantastic attitude, his humility, his compassion and his admirable determination…is it really so surprising that people have warmed to him this way? I would suggest not. All I can tell you going forward is that he is afforded the same compassion he has shown to others and is given the same privilege all others here are afforded in being given time to rest, recuperate, recover his strength and gather himself until such a point as he feels he is ready for further discussion with myself and the board here. I’m in contact with his family, the Japanese ministry are also aware of the situation…and so there is no story here, only tabloid rumours and gossip which are ultimately harmful and unhelpful in promoting the end goal: protecting the colours for the future and helping those in the Grey Zones.’

Shoma swallowed, his cheeks hot with a blush and a dazed look on his face; he could feel his parents’ eyes on him, and he glanced back at them with an uncomfortable shrug before looking worriedly back at the television.  
‘I didn’t know the press knew,’ he whispered, his eyes drifting once again to the slight, drawn-in figure at Brian’s side. Yuzuru was sitting unnaturally still, his head bowed just slightly and his gaze lowered – it was as wounded as he would let himself look in front of so many cameras. As Shoma watched, he saw there was a new journalist stepping forward to the microphone, a woman with neat hair and a calculating smile who Shoma vaguely recognised from Japanese television; he felt his whole body shiver as he watched her make her introductions.  
‘I have a question for Yuzuru,’ she said, her voice dripping with a saccharine innocence that Shoma instinctively distrusted. He tensed and he saw Yuzuru do the same as he looked up and forced his best PR smile onto his face, his fingers twitching up to tuck some hair behind his ear as he pulled his microphone forwards and sat up a little straighter. ‘Yuzuru, what are your personal thoughts on the departure of Shoma Uno from the Foundation? After all, even if this is on a temporary basis, you must be troubled to see someone taking leave from the Foundation at such a crucial time – especially as he seemed to have become a particular ally of yours in his time here?’ Shoma narrowed his eyes just a little, almost smiling.  
‘Thank you for your question.’ It was the look in Yuzuru’s eyes that made Shoma shiver; with a flash of lightning in their brown, sparkling depths, Yuzuru Hanyu had come alive, smiling his dangerous smile, his lips curving slowly and his chin tipping up in defiance. It was so quick and so fierce that Shoma couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, biting down on his grin and feeling his whole chest constrict with a curiously proud sort of anticipation; this woman didn’t seem to realise it, but she had just struck a match inside Yuzuru’s chest.  
‘Big mistake,’ Shoma said under his breath, his eyes glittering as he smiled darkly, and Itsuki quirked an eyebrow at him. Shoma simply tipped his head towards the screen and shrugged. ‘Just watch,’ he said softly, his smile widening as Yuzuru cleared his throat and met the woman’s gaze dead-on, the light and fire in him making him look glorious and radiant and terrifying all at once.  
‘My thoughts…hmm,’ Yuzuru sighed, tipping his head to one side as he matched the woman’s attempt at sweetness with a more dazzling show of sweetness of his own. ‘Give me a moment, to properly consider this question, so I can answer from the heart, and give the correct weight to my words so they may be better understood.’ He wet his lips, glancing down for a beat. When he looked back up his eyes were glinting like a cat ready to pounce. ‘It is my strong feeling that…no person’s motives for needing to go home should ever be pulled apart or examined by people who do not know them. Our stage is public, but we are still only people, and no one outside of ourselves can truly know how much we can take; that is why leave is given, why we always are free to make our own choices on matters concerning our homes and our families, regardless of the events surrounding us. It takes a brave person to say “enough” in the face of overwhelming pressure – it takes a braver person still to admit this limit to others, to ask to be allowed the time and space that is needed to dispel the overwhelming weight of these things, even when others around them maybe don’t need that same time and space, or have already decided they wish to push through without it. There is no right or wrong way – these things are personal; no one’s inner world is anyone else’s property unless they choose to share it with us, so why should I judge anyone for allowing themselves to make that decision when there is no one better placed? They have shown they are strong, because they spoke up – in accepting their limit, they have taken an ownership of their path, and opened up the possibility for learning and growth and…in time? Even greater strength.’ Yuzuru’s expression softened just a little then, and Shoma’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Sho is not – _Shoma_ is not – an “ally” to me, and to reduce him to this sounds so formal and complicated, as though we have factions here and play strategies to compete…that is very unsettling to my mind, because it is so far from the truth, and so far from what I know to have shared with Shoma in his time here. Shoma has been many things to me, in fact: a friend, a voice of reason, a wise mind…sometimes a calming influence, sometimes the opposite…someone I have learned from and had many interesting conversations with, but…also someone who is always a true example of what it is to use power from the heart and use it well, of someone who has become brave by never shying away from their flaws or fragilities, but always aiming to overcome them in time. Someone who will not be rushed, but also will never be stopped. And, I have to say…above all? Shoma has been someone who I respect. That is not something which will be changed by distance or time or newspaper headlines – and it shouldn’t be expected to be that way by those who do not know either one of us anyway.’ Yuzuru’s eyes shone, and for a moment it was almost as if he was meeting Shoma’s gaze through the screen; Shoma could feel the bruise in his chest being pressed on by thunderclouds. ‘Shoma…he has the kind of heart that is very rare – very remarkable and very resolute. You will find no one kinder – no one gentler or more thoughtful. But you will also find no one of his strength. I believe it takes great courage to see the world with the clarity he sees it, and to care about things with the force he does. I cannot tell you he will take leave for this long or that long, I cannot tell you he is not at the Foundation because of this or because of that. That is Shoma’s business, not mine and not the world’s. I can only tell you that Shoma is someone of great power, great compassion and great spirit; there is fight in him and there is warmth in him, and he will use this for the best possible purpose when he is ready, never once being anything less than grounded, steady Shoma, and never once trying to present himself as something he is not. He is wonderful, in that sense – honest, reliable and, truly, very special. To the Foundation, to those he has touched in his time here…and also to me.’ Yuzuru shot the woman another piercing look, his eyes growing fierce once more. ‘Of course, if I may address the issue I think you were alluding to with your question…’ he said slowly, pointed and knowing and just the right amount of obnoxious to make his point. Shoma let out a faint, breathy laugh. ‘I have seen many curious reports since Shoma’s departure – there are strange rumours, no? Of some sort of argument or some fault on his part or mine – and I do not understand where these have come from, because they bear no relation to anything which has happened. So I would like to make something very clear to anyone who might read these articles and think there is substance to these words: these stories must surely not be about Shoma and me, as there is no quarrel there, unless you count the usual laughing arguments between friends which are gone before they have even really started. I will say only this in response to the falsehoods being shared in these corners of the press: I begrudge Shoma none of the attention or praise he has received as a result of his achievements in Singapore and Malaysia. We are not in competition to see who can be the biggest headline or who can meet the most members of foreign governments and agencies – we are both simply trying to help people, and we both admire each other’s work as such. And what Shoma has done is inspiring to me – his work both inside the Foundation and out only spurs me on, it does not anger me in any way. In Shoma…I see all the light and hope and possibility which can make the real difference in the world both he and I would love to see, I see the same wonderful person those people who have taken him into their hearts also see, and I take him into my heart also in that way. There is no disrespect on Shoma’s part and no jealousy on mine: these are myths which have been started in an attempt to sell papers and create drama where there is none. There is nothing for me to be jealous of in the attention and favour Shoma has received from people because it is just reward for someone as humble and giving as he is: that gratitude and affection is something that belongs to him – he has earned it, and I am as in awe of his light as those who have given that attention in the first place. Shoma amazes me, always – I am happy to see I am not the only one. My only regret is that with that attention has come pressure and scrutiny and judgement which he neither asked for nor deserved. He is quiet and calm and immeasurably gentle: that is all he has given, and that is all he should receive in return. And I will not be answering any further questions on these awful rumours – my point of view is a clear one, and Shoma’s name should be kept out of stories whose real target is me and my actions. If you are to judge me, judge me, not those who have been good enough to me to care for me and who I care for duly in return. Maybe I would normally let these sorts of rumours rest and tire themselves out…but I feel this is not an ordinary circumstance, as this time these stories are intruding upon someone at a time when they need their peace. Shoma is my friend – to me, he will always be important, so I will always defend him. Of course, he is also most capable of defending himself, I am in no doubt on that score…but I would simply rather he didn’t have to. I hope, perhaps, with these words, I have answered your question and the questions of many others – I hope you will listen and will understand the depth of my feeling and the sincerity with which I have spoken…and above all? I hope you will allow Shoma the time he has earned for himself, away from such needless headlines and shallow whispers.’

Yuzuru held the woman’s gaze for a beat after he had finished speaking, his smile widening just a little and his eyes beady and glittering – the woman managed a smile and a nod in return as she stepped away, and it was as though all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room by Yuzuru’s stare, the whole press pack suddenly startled and still. For a moment, Shoma felt the whole world was holding its breath – he was aware of every cell in his body vibrating just a little, of the feeling of his heart in his chest and of just how difficult it was to get his lungs to expand and contract the way they should. His jawline was rash-red and hot, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, couldn’t move – could barely blink. Lightning tracks zigzagged behind his eyelids as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying and failing to disperse Yuzuru’s heartfelt spell of words and knowing smiles.  
‘Wow,’ Itsuki breathed out, giving the smallest and slowest of claps and coaxing a bewildered, raspy laugh out of Shoma. ‘Don’t ever try to play Yuzuru Hanyu, huh.’ Shoma laughed again and Itsuki bumped his shoulder teasingly. ‘Watch it, Sho, Mum looks like she has a _world_ of questions she wants to ask you right now.’ Shoma started slightly, casting a sheepish glance back towards his parents and forcing a vague smile in their direction.  
‘Shoma?’ his mother said gently. ‘Are you ok?’ Shoma swallowed, nodding a little too quickly and trying to blink the stupor out of his features.  
‘Yeah,’ he replied, realising how uncertain he sounded and clearing his throat in an effort to make his voice sound firmer. ‘Yeah, I’m fine…I just…’ He sighed, slumping a little and glancing back up at the television with wide, desolate eyes; Yuzuru was nodding along to a reply Brian was giving, his features trained into a reserved, polite smile again even as his fingers fidgeted with the zip of his jacket. Shoma shivered. ‘I guess I didn’t realise how much extra drama he was going to have to deal with because of me…I didn’t think it would come back on him like this and…I didn’t want it to. He has enough to deal with…and I…he shouldn’t have to deal with this too.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath before looking back over to his mother with a shrug. ‘I still don’t even get how they know I’ve left, you know? Brian was so careful. And it’s just…it’s weird. That people care that much…but also…that they know things I didn’t think they could.’ His mother opened her mouth for another question and Shoma shook his head, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture and pushing himself upright so abruptly that Itsuki overbalanced with a graceless thud. ‘I’m just tired,’ Shoma insisted softly, scrambling to his feet. ‘I’m going to bed, ok? I’ve been up too long and I don’t even know what time zone I’m in anymore – I just need to sleep, you know?’

He supposed there was something vaguely pathetic about letting himself get found by his younger brother, sitting on his bed in Yuzuru’s jacket, lost down an internet rabbit hole – but he had never pretended with Itsuki and he didn’t have the energy to start now. He didn’t even look up from the screen as he came into the room, his eyes still reading and rereading the words in front of him, trying to assimilate them with the truth and coming up blank time and time again; it was disorientating and bewildering, and on some level he was starting to forget what the truth even was, at least until he remembered Yuzuru’s glinting eyes as he stared the press down and gave his speech with cool determination. Itsuki flopped onto his bed with deliberate force, folding his arms and staring Shoma down expectantly, and when he still didn’t look up he cleared his throat, stretching across the space between their beds to kick Shoma lightly in his side.  
‘Shoma,’ he huffed when Shoma simply pulled a face and pushed his foot away from him without taking his eyes off the screen. ‘Please tell me you’re not reading those dumb gossip stories – what good do you think that’s going to do, huh?’ Shoma shot him a glare but Itsuki didn’t take the hint, getting up and throwing himself down to sit beside Shoma instead, peering at the screen and flicking his temple in reprimand. ‘You’re awful, you know that?’ he complained, rolling his eyes. ‘You shouldn’t be reading this stuff, Shoma: you know it’s not true, and Yuzu already put them in their place anyway. You’re just making yourself miserable on purpose.’ Shoma winced slightly as he dug his nails into his palms; his body was all tension and his head was all noise, and he couldn’t help but dwell on the thought that – if he were here – he knew the exact spot where Yuzuru would press his thumb to heal just enough of the ache away to let him breathe normally again. ‘They’re just dumb rumours spread to get clicks, Sho. Don’t give them the space in your head,’ Itsuki sighed more gently, and when Shoma still didn’t react he let out a small frustrated noise from the back of his throat and grabbed the laptop, closing it forcefully and pulling it to his chest. ‘ _Shoma_ ,’ he said, and finally Shoma blinked up to meet his gaze. ‘Why are you doing this to yourself, huh? I know you feel bad that Yuzu has to deal with it…but…he deals with this stuff all the time. And you know he would do anything for you, right?’

Shoma began biting at his lip, looking down with a long sigh.  
‘They’re blaming him for all of it, you know,’ he whispered. Itsuki frowned slightly and Shoma lifted one shoulder, rolling his eyes in an attempt to seem dismissive. His lips twisted into a grimace as tore at the skin there, biting down to try and keep his emotion from spilling over. ‘They’re blaming him for me leaving and for the timing of it…the ones that aren’t blaming me, anyway.’ He swallowed the crack in his voice and stared determinedly up at the ceiling. ‘They’re saying he fought with me because he thought I was too popular, calling him spoilt and attention seeking and saying he was scared I was going to steal his spotlight, that I was going to become the new face for the Foundation and diminish his role somehow. They’re saying he didn’t want to lose his influence and that he thought my power was strong enough to be a threat to him, so he drove me out – they’re making out like he’s bitter and jealous and saying I left because the Alliance visit was going to be my time or something. They think he wanted me gone so I wouldn’t be in contention for it, and he would be the natural star again.’ Shoma felt a tear escape and he didn’t bother to brush it away; Itsuki knew him well enough to let him cry without passing comment or offering comfort, knew him well enough to realise this was one of those times when Shoma just needed to let out the words he usually did such a good job of holding back. ‘And then the other side say it’s all my fault, because I want the Foundation to promote me above him, to give me his place and his fame…they say he doesn’t trust my motives because he thinks I’m playing a game. They all think that I’m a fraud, that the Japanese ministry and our family were working together so I could gain footing at the Foundation for status, and when it didn’t work they pulled me out in the hope of getting what we want by playing politics instead, using the Alliance as an alternative and setting Yuzu up for a fall.’  
‘Shoma,’ Itsuki said gently, setting down the laptop on the bed. He shuffled closer, wrapping his arms around him crushingly tight, and Shoma didn’t bother putting up a fight. ‘The only words you need? Yuzu already gave them to you. Stop letting all this noise inside and hold on to what you know about yourself – what you believe about yourself. You’re not defined by other people’s expectations or Yuzu’s public profile. You’re you – on your own terms, in your own way. You’re someone special in your own right, Sho. And Yuzu said as much to the press today too. That you care, and that you care so much? It’s enough. _You_ are enough.’ Shoma closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut and taking a shaky breath as Itsuki pulled him even closer, protective and bony and determined.  
‘Tell that to the people on social media. They have it all figured out over there – people who say they know people, people who have heard stories…they know I’m just useless and weak, or worse that I’m just good at playing the part for the media game.’ He sniffed, rubbing at his eyes and wincing at how sore they felt. ‘Twitter is a real goldmine, it turns out,’ he added bitterly, and Itsuki scowled disapprovingly.  
‘Shoma, why would you even look?’  
‘Because I had to know. I wanted to…I wanted to try and work out what the purpose was…what they’re trying to achieve.’  
‘Sho, they’re trolls – the only purpose is hurting other people’s feelings and enjoying the drama.’  
‘Maybe some of them – but there is more going on here, Itsuki, I just know it…this is a _campaign_. Against the Foundation and Yuzu…and now me. And the weird part is? They’re against mine and Yuzu’s friendship, too. The trolls are feeding on what someone else has already given them – and there has to be a reason for that, a reason to want to discredit everything about us. I just don’t know what it is. And that…is terrifying. That someone can be this bothered by something I’ve done they’d start an international media storm? It doesn’t make sense.’

Itsuki sat up a little, looking at Shoma with wide, worried eyes; his expression was all conflicting emotion – concern, intrigue and sadness fighting for dominance – and Shoma couldn’t offer him any reassurance that he was holding it together, because for the first time in his life he was certain he wasn’t. ‘These people on Twitter, they’re so brutal and so certain…and so calculated about it. And I don’t have any way of defending myself that wouldn’t make it worse. They’re professional word-twisters. And they’re all convinced they’re right.’ Itsuki glanced down, pulling a face.  
‘Yeah. I know,’ he muttered. Shoma raised his eyebrows in surprise and Itsuki gave him an uncomfortable shrug. ‘There are maybe four or five big accounts, I think…who claim to dislike you but all they do is talk about you. There’s hundreds for Yuzu but…that’s to be expected, I guess.’ Itsuki rolled his eyes. ‘I have them blocked now, but they tried to follow me, during the Singapore trip. I got so many weirdos following me around then I put my account on private anyway…but it still seemed weird, you know? That they would think I would just…let them use me to get to you. It sort of…did seem strategic, I guess – like there really was some bigger game going on. But they weren’t playing it well if they thought I was going to give them any dirt.’ Shoma’s face crumpled, and he let out a soft whimper, closing his eyes and shaking his head.  
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, his voice part-whisper and part-choke, and Itsuki smacked his arm, dipping his head in an effort to make him look at him.  
‘Hey: don’t be, ok?’ he said firmly. ‘It’s not your fault people mess all this stuff up so badly, Sho. All you did was try to help – to do something good with your power and to put magic back in the world. Why would I blame you for that?’  
‘Because actions have consequences; I knew the stage I was on…I knew the stage the person I was aligning myself with was on.’  
‘The person who protected you as best he could – the person who showed he was willing to go to war for you just now,’ Itsuki pointed out fiercely. ‘Call me crazy, Shoma, but I don’t want you cutting someone like that out of your life just so I can mess around on social media more. I’m on his side, you know? We’re part of your team and we’ll fight for you together – even if that means you’re the one we have to fight sometimes to stop you sabotaging yourself.’  
‘But this isn’t sabotaging myself – there is something going on and I don’t know what it is, ok? Something bigger than me is rallying against me, against people I care about…and they’re trying to drag you into it too somehow. That’s…frightening, Itsuki. Really frightening. And the worst part is…I…I know they’re right, on some level. It _is_ my fault: that this is happening, that Yuzu’s even having to answer such dumb questions. I did do this, even if I didn’t do it for the reasons they think.’  
‘Sho…you’ve lost me,’ Itsuki sighed, sounding exhausted and exasperated, and Shoma couldn’t meet his eyes.  
‘I wasn’t brave enough to face it: the whole stage of the Foundation, the politics and the people and…and the possibility that Yuzu might not make it out of this so maybe I won’t either. I couldn’t face it. And I caved – at the worst possible time for him and for Brian. I backed down. And I played into the Alliance’s hands. And look what’s happening – I ruined all the good press they worked so hard to build up during the summit, I opened the door to all these eyes who want them to fail…and I probably started something I’m not capable of stopping without dragging Yuzu back into the path of danger all over again.’  
‘Shoma – enough,’ Itsuki said softly, his eyes dark and intent. When Shoma didn’t meet his gaze he let out a frustrated huff of breath, sitting up a little straighter and taking him firmly by the shoulders, forcing him to face him and shaking him ever so slightly. ‘Where is this doubt coming from? Why are you listening to the voices of people who don’t even know you?’  
‘Because I left the Foundation…but I can’t undo that I was there, ok? I’m still inside a story I don’t understand, Itsuki. And I’m terrified that the other characters from the shadows between the pages aren’t going to let me out without a cost.’ Itsuki studied his face for a moment, worrying at his lip, his grip on Shoma’s shoulders briefly tightening.  
‘Sho…if it’s that serious…you need to talk to Yuzu, you need to at least tell him you’re worried about it…he needs to know, he needs to be able to help you.’ Shoma shook his head, his eyes growing darker.  
‘No. Itsuki, no, I can’t…I can’t tell him – this has been his life since he was a kid, it’s not something he’d even flinch at…but me…’ Shoma swallowed hard and looked up to stop himself from letting out any more tears he didn’t think he had the right to shed. ‘I can’t talk to him anyway, ok? If I talk to him…he’ll want to help. And then I’ll let him come here…and he’ll end up…he’ll end up making me talk…and he’ll listen and he’ll be too kind to me, kinder than I deserve. And that will just take apart every small piece of resistance I have. I’ll give in, I’ll let myself be around him and I’ll get used to him being there just in time for him to throw himself headfirst into some stupid, dangerous, avoidable thing and…it’ll all be my fault. So I can’t call him. I won’t. And you can’t make me.’ There was a beat of quiet between them, and it was both a surprise and a relief to Shoma when Itsuki let out a heavy, defeated sigh, his hands dropping from his shoulders as he sat back.  
‘Fine,’ he said, soft, resigned and displeased as he looked worriedly over Shoma’s features. ‘But on one condition: no more Google, ok? You found what you wanted already – you have to try and let it go or you’ll drive yourself insane.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Ok. Whatever. It’s a deal.’

That night, Shoma couldn’t sleep. Although he and Itsuki had retreated to their own beds and fallen back into their normal Saturday night routine after their fractured conversation, once the lights were switched off and Shoma was alone with his thoughts once more, it didn’t seem quite so easy to dispel the jagged whispers and the roar of doubts that waited for him on the edges of the silence. Shoma felt them pressing on him in the shadows as the rain poured down outside. He had never been good at judging his own internal gauge: he was open or closed, he was all or nothing, he cared too much or he couldn’t risk caring at all. He was calm or he was falling apart. He kept things at arm’s length as best he could, tried to protect himself – but once something snuck its way in, it was never long before all his walls would tumble down. At least Yuzuru had had the decency to smash them to bits in one go and bring fresh air with him – the voices in the darkness now showed him no such kindness, muttering fragments of headlines to him and bending the half-light into the shape of the woman in the navy coat. It felt like there were eyes and opinions everywhere. Doubts everywhere. Judgements everywhere. Suddenly the comfort of his childhood room was lost to the oppressiveness of the drumming rain; he looked out at the winking lights beyond the window, watching the way they made the raindrops glitter like crystals against the black sheen of the glass, and he felt so desperately helpless. The world was setting things into motion around him, and he was stuck in place at the centre of the chaos, his limbs like lead and his breathing too shallow. He was letting it drown him, but he felt too heavy to push himself up for air – he was done, spent, exhausted. He’d come home to take back control; he thought he was grabbing hold of a solid, certain thing, pulling himself out of the mire and away from all the unknowns. But the ghouls of those deep, dark waters had followed him out – and now there was no Yuzuru to scatter lightning bolts out into the shadows to keep the noise at bay, to laugh softly and kiss his forehead and tell him to sleep.

Shoma felt tears beginning to prickle at the backs of his eyes; midnights were lonelier like this, colder and more still. His breath hitched, scratching at his throat, and he chewed desperately at his cheek in the hope of stifling the sound – he didn’t want to wake Itsuki up, to worry him with midnight tears and a fresh wave of paranoia. But behind his back he heard the rustle of sheets.  
‘I know you’re awake,’ Itsuki whispered into the darkness. Shoma held himself painfully still, keeping himself turned away and staring resolutely at the rain-spattered window. Itsuki sighed. ‘I’m so sorry, Sho.’ He sounded so sad – so defeated it made Shoma wince. He reluctantly rolled over, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling; Itsuki was watching him with a wide, worried gaze, and he knew he saw the tears shining in his eyes. But there was no hiding his mood from his brother – Itsuki had never needed the power to sense to see through Shoma’s attempts at staying closed. ‘Shoma, please call him,’ Itsuki said into the silence, an aching plea that made Shoma squeeze his eyes tightly shut. ‘What if he senses this, huh? What will he think?’ Itsuki pressed. ‘At least if you call-’  
‘I’m fine, Itsuki. Go to sleep.’ Itsuki let out an indignant puff of breath, shifting closer to the edge of his bed and thumping his pillow as he flopped back down against it.  
‘Like I can sleep knowing you’re crying.’  
‘I’m not crying.’  
‘And I’m not blind.’

The two of them fell back into an uneasy quiet, Shoma clenching his jaw and Itsuki staring him down as the rain picked up outside. Itsuki had a point, of course – Shoma had been doing his best to keep his emotion bound in, to hold back the full force of his feelings even from himself, aware that his panic could set off Yuzuru’s panic and cause him unnecessary worry – but Shoma couldn’t bear the thought of reaching out only to have to close himself off again once the night was over. He couldn’t rely on thunder to be his lullaby forever; he was supposed to be learning to forget, not clutching on more tightly than ever.  
‘The dark is strong but I’m stronger – that’s what he’d say. I can say it for myself now. I can learn to believe it as much as he makes me believe it,’ Shoma murmured. ‘I can calm myself down without Yuzuru. I _should_.’ Itsuki sighed deeply, rolling his eyes.  
‘Sure, I can see “calming yourself down” is working out really well for you right now,’ he shot back. He propped himself up on his elbow, studying Shoma thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Shoma…I’m not doubting you, you know. I know how strong you are. How capable you are. I…I don’t know if I could have done what you’ve done…if I was the one with power and the Foundation had asked me to leave home…to go to summits and events and power demonstrations. You were facing some of your biggest fears in taking that leap – being far away and meeting new people and trusting them with your power when you barely trust yourself with it sometimes. And you did it and you thrived at it. But…proving you can stand alone isn’t everything, ok? You proved everything about how strong you are when you felt a million fears and still went there anyway. Now it’s time to just…breathe and figure out if you can really take it, you know? You have so much care for everyone else…so let that come back to you for once without dismissing it as empty platitudes. Have the courage to open your heart out and start believing in the goodness in the world instead of only focusing on the bad – don’t think about the loss of saying goodbye again, think about how amazing it is that there is something in you which made someone like Yuzu even want to say hello in the first place.’

Shoma turned his head away slightly, closing his eyes. He drew in a deep breath, allowing himself, for just a moment, to feel the full weight of his worries; he shuttered out the world and the sense of Itsuki watching him and focused only on the buzz of white noise, hot and incessant beneath his skin, attempting to assess it, to decide if it was worth the risk and the fuss, if he was even allowed to feel it at all. His chest felt tight, his throat constricting, and for a beat he couldn’t breathe – and then, with sudden ferocity, every feeling rushed in at once. Finally the tears came, a small, undignified choke of tears escaping from the back of his throat as he let himself crumple inwards, folding and unfolding and feeling more than he could process. His cheeks stung and he could taste salt on his lips, and he threw his arm over his eyes with a frustrated, strangled sound, trying to put back what he had let in and failing. And then, somewhere amidst the fog and flood, he felt something electric breaking through: the shock of lightning was so full and so clear that Shoma jumped with it, gasping and opening his eyes wide, blinking up at the ceiling in surprise and placing a hand to his chest to brace himself. His skin tingled with the aftershock, and for a moment he had to focus so much to dispel the electricity of it from all around him that he almost forgot his doubt and fear completely. Itsuki’s worry was palpable in the air between them as he watched Shoma try to steady himself, and Shoma glanced over at him with a weak, wounded little laugh, the sound damp and sniffling.  
‘Yuzu,’ he whispered somewhat shyly, still trying to steady his ragged breathing and feeling another tear roll free. He squeezed his eyes shut again; his lashes felt heavy and damp and there was still thunder rattling through his bones. He tried to push it aside, to focus on the place where he felt the heat of his own power and will it to open out into sunbeams which could stretch back across the miles. He hoped it was enough of an answer, but he knew he had to have scared Yuzuru for him to manage to send a lightning bolt that strong over such a distance.  
‘You…you felt him? Just then?’ Itsuki asked uncertainly, and Shoma swallowed, opening his eyes and smiling slightly as he nodded his head.  
‘Yeah.’ He let out a wet splutter of a laugh. ‘ _Really strong_.’  
‘That’s so weird,’ Itsuki said, a small, intrigued frown crossing his features. Shoma couldn’t help but smirk, a brief glint in his eyes.  
‘You should try being on the receiving end,’ he sighed. Itsuki let out a soft laugh and Shoma pulled a face, looking away.  
‘Sho-’ Itsuki began, but Shoma cut him off with a shake of his head.  
‘Don’t,’ he pleaded. Itsuki closed his mouth and flopped back down against his pillow with an annoyed, huffy little sound that made Shoma flinch. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and Itsuki’s expression gentled just a little, a sulk still lingering at the edges of his lips even as his eyes sparkled with sympathy.  
‘Don’t apologise…then I just end up feeling bad for you when I really should be seething.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into an almost-smile, and his eyes fluttered closed as the two of them fell quiet again, the sound of Shoma’s harsh, heavy breathing and the whip of the rain the only noises in the darkness. After a while, Shoma heard the rustle of Itsuki’s covers as he shifted, heard what sounded like him rolling over and away from him. And then the room fell into silence once more.

Shoma stopped paying attention, letting himself feel the ache of his muscles and the oppressiveness of the dark instead. He had reached the point of exhaustion where he knew sleep would be impossible, his head thumping too hard and no position comfortable, and he was grateful that Itsuki seemed to have finally given up on him; there was nothing he could say to make it better, and he didn’t want him to try, he was too tired of people’s well-meaning suggestions and sympathy that only seemed to make him feel more confused. He felt scrubbed-raw and hemmed-in, but his skin was still prickling with lightning and his head was still full of noise – he didn’t want sleep, he just wanted the morning already, wanted the fresher air and the amber light. There was more shuffling behind him, and Shoma kept his eyes closed, trying to ignore his brother’s presence entirely and escape into the blankness behind his eyelids. He was concentrating so hard on blocking everything out that it took him a moment to process it when he heard Itsuki talking in a low murmur to someone on his phone.  
‘…please. He wouldn’t call, and I know I shouldn’t go behind his back but…I’m just really worried about him. And I know if anyone can get through to him…it’s you. You always do, somehow.’ Shoma slowly opened his eyes, twisting to look back over his shoulder in confusion. He rubbed a hand over his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes and squinting up at the blurry shapes he could pick out in the darkness, and it made him jump when suddenly he came face to face with Itsuki. ‘I’m giving him the phone now,’ he was saying, and Shoma frowned up at him, uncomprehending, grumbling in confusion when he dropped down onto the bed beside him and wordlessly pressed the phone to his ear.  
‘Huh?’ he let out, but Itsuki simply forced the phone into his hand and sat back expectantly.

Shoma couldn’t explain the feeling that took over him as he adjusted his focus to the phone in his hand; if he had been drifting out to sea before, now he had suddenly been seized by a current, some great weight of gravity pulling him in to shore, his whole body suddenly loosening and letting go. He closed his eyes against the sensation, letting out the softest of sighs; this was familiar, this was something he remembered more clearly than he wanted to admit. ‘ _Yuzu_?’ His voice was small – a breath, so soft he barely realised the sound had even come from him. It was an admission, of sorts, full of hope and relief; his voice gave away everything, and he knew Yuzuru heard it. And yet he didn’t mind the way he thought he would. Because something had been unlocked, and Shoma had no resistance against the force of feeling it let out, no desire to close himself off to this person who he had promised nothing but honesty to. So he made no attempt to hold back the hiccupping sob that built up in his throat, didn’t try to calm the rough sound of his breathing or the shudder of his power beneath the surface of his skin – he couldn’t bring himself to pretend to be anything other than what he was, who he was, rough edges and all. Yuzuru always made everything in him rise to the surface; Shoma still valued the safety of that, found a certain amount of peace in it. He felt Yuzuru’s sigh in his whole body, like a shockwave.  
‘Shoma.’ His tone was hushed and soft, and he drew out the sound of Shoma’s name like there was music in it; Shoma’s whole body vibrated with recognition and relief, like a sigh he didn’t realise he’d been holding in. He drew in a scratchy breath, making some vague sound of acknowledgement, and somehow Yuzuru must have understood something from it, because he hummed, low and soothing and warm, as though Shoma had just told him something profound. Behind Shoma’s eyelids, the dark was beginning to shift – petals falling, twisting and turning into sparks of gold – and he let out another small, wet sound that made Yuzuru sigh, calm and curiously sympathetic. ‘Shoma, whatever is happening, whatever cloud is pressing down on you…you will be ok. But first you have to remember to _breathe_ – fog will lift, but you have to keep breathing long enough to be there and see it,’ he murmured, incredibly gentle but still firm enough that Shoma could almost feel the words reaching inside, could hear the low click of something slowly releasing inside his chest, like someone unlatching a shutter to the sight of a pale sunrise. ‘Listen to me and to your own heartbeat and nothing else, ok?’ Shoma nodded, then remembered Yuzuru wasn’t actually in front of him and let out a small, vague sound of acknowledgment instead. He did as he was told, focusing in and taking a deep, steadying breath; for all his storm and force of will, Yuzuru’s presence was something calm and easy, something which pushed forwards and just kept gliding, lighter than air and quick enough to send a breeze through Shoma’s hair. Shoma leant into the sensation with more longing than he wanted to admit; it was a feeling which was enhanced by his ability to sense, but not entirely determined by it, because somehow Yuzuru was able to connect to him beyond that, with words and whispers and the sound of his breathing. He had sent out a hundred paper planes inside Shoma’s ribcage, and they soared and swooped the same way the birds did in the Foundation skies, cutting out a space in Shoma’s inner world and giving him just enough room inside his lungs again to really breathe. He was falling, spinning, spiralling. And somehow it was ok.

As he felt his body grow just a little quieter, Shoma heard his brother shift behind him, moving to lie beside him and tucking himself protectively against his back; his lips twitched into a faint, grateful smile and he had to swallow down another sob, a happier one this time. Yuzuru and Itsuki had wordlessly circled their defences around him, the effect simple but complete as they patiently rebuilt the castle walls, shutting out the world and its noise until Shoma could only hear himself and the sound of their closeness inside. ‘Better?’ Yuzuru asked after a moment, and Shoma hummed, his smile widening a little as Yuzuru’s lightning danced at the edges of his consciousness, light and comforting. ‘Ok.’ The lightning zigzagged sharply then, jolting and almost mischievous as it cut a wild path through Shoma’s ribcage, ticklish and full of light affection, and Shoma bit back a laugh and breathed in sharply, pulling himself in and shivering against the feeling as it slowly unravelled. With easy rhythm it gentled, drifting down to a warm, low buzz in the pit of Shoma’s stomach that made him feel anchored and sleepy, and it was as perfect as it was ridiculous. Shoma’s lips curved up and he buried his face in his pillow.  
‘Quit showing off,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru laughed, a soft, kind sound that made a shaft of sunlight open up inside Shoma’s chest, stretching and full as it fell, like a lighthouse’s lantern, out into the darkness.  
‘Never, Shoma! Unless you do first,’ Yuzuru declared, his voice happy enough that Shoma recognised the sunlight in it, realised that across the expanse of darkness his power had still found Yuzuru somehow, standing quiet and patient on the other side. Shoma let out a small, watery laugh, and he could hear the electric crackle in the back of his head which he knew meant Yuzuru was smiling. He drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking his eyes open again and gazing up at the sparkle of the raindrops on the window with dark, tired eyes. It was strange to realise that for Yuzuru it was still daylight – the thought was jarring and disorientating, and it made Shoma feel momentarily dislodged from the intensity of the connection, briefly wrongfooted and wounded again. ‘Shoma,’ Yuzuru interrupted the thought before it could fully take hold. ‘Just listen to my voice and stop counting miles.’ He was knowing and firm, but there was still a certain sweetness in his voice, a gentleness that belied the sudden surge of healing he had laced into the words. Shoma closed his eyes again, and he could see Yuzuru’s smile – knew the exact way the morning light would look in his eyes and what angle he would tip his head as he listened to the quiet down the line, understanding a hundred things that weren’t being said. He must have been up so early for the press conference – there would be shadows beneath his eyes, the sore spot at the corner of his lips no doubt raw and now smothered in lip balm, something gorgeous and exhausted in the way he was folded up in his chair. It was strange to realise he knew these things with such certainty, strange to realise how much he cared about them – drawing them to mind made him smile, though, made his body relax a little more. ‘You are so stubborn, huh? You grow roots and you refuse to move no matter what wind tears at your branches,’ Yuzuru said then, his tone faintly teasing yet still achingly tender, like it was a compliment and a reprimand all tied up in one breath. Shoma was powerless to do anything but laugh, the sound damp and broken but the feeling pleasant, and with it Shoma felt some more of the ghosts and shadows receding, some more of the bands around his chest starting to fall away. He could breathe more deeply. He could see the way the light made patterns in the darkness of his room. And he could hear Yuzuru, humming again, light and fond and considering. ‘You know, Shoma, sometimes you are your own greatest enemy: you overwhelm yourself with the pressure to stand alone no matter the cost, you set yourself a standard then tell yourself you are not strong enough to meet it…and you allow a hundred other pressures on top because you don’t want anyone to feel disappointed. You want everyone to be heard – but do you hear yourself, Shoma? That is the question. Do you remember your own needs? And realise your own strength?’  
‘This is coming from you?’ Shoma shot back quickly, sounding a little more bitter than he intended, and he winced slightly, scrunching up his face and letting out a soft groan. ‘I didn’t mean-’ Yuzuru cut him off with the smallest of laughs, pleasant, mild and strangely kind.  
‘Oh, but you did, Shoma,’ he replied with a small sigh, tiredness in his voice but a certain warmth there too. Shoma knew his eyes were twinkling – wicked and strangely delighted – and his lips twisted into a grimace of a smile.  
‘I just…you take on pressure all the time. And you never stop giving even when it hurts you. I’m not the only one with high standards for myself, Yuzuru. At least I know when I’m done. At least I don’t give more than what I know I have.’ Yuzuru hummed again, quiet, pleasant and resigned, and Shoma closed his eyes tightly, biting the inside of his cheek.  
‘Maybe harsh,’ Yuzuru noted softly. ‘Maybe justified,’ he added. Shoma could just imagine the little shrug he was giving, the dismissive, accepting way he would wave his hand like it was nothing. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or roll his eyes. ‘But, you know, Shoma, where I might fight too hard, maybe you forget what it is you’re fighting for: I always try to remember the good in things, to recognise it and reach for it if I need. It gives me somewhere to turn when the darkness feels overwhelming. I choose to see that goodness as a promise for more good in time, and let myself turn to that good in others when it feels like I have none left inside. When the world seems dark and impossible, I remember that everything must have seemed impossible once. But you…you always see these good and precious things as nothing more than reminders of things you have left behind, or things you will be forced to see leave you behind in time. You see the good only as a threat of an absence and a loss, a potential for more pain. But…it’s not, Shoma. That is just the sharp edges talking. Jagged though it might be, it is a gift to know you have been there and felt something – to know you have existed in a place amongst these people and breathed these moments. I won’t say you cannot be sad it is gone – I understand how much it hurts. But you are still here; that means some part of that goodness must be too. That you are still somehow breathing through the chaos means you must still have strength enough in you somewhere to seek the goodness out again.’ The sensation of Yuzuru’s power pressing against Shoma’s edges was still there, didn’t even flicker for a beat, and Shoma leaned into it a little more, drawing on it gladly, no longer caring if he seemed helpless or needy. Yuzuru was giving him permission to just feel – Yuzuru looked at fractures and bruises and saw proof of life, and where Yuzuru saw proof of life, Yuzuru saw proof of hope. In Shoma’s vulnerability, Yuzuru, as always, saw something strong. ‘That you always feel such a great weight of pessimism when confronted with these things, yet have still taken the gamble to let even a little light in? That tells me you will be ok, Shoma. That tells me you are scowling and foolish and fragile, but still standing, broken-branched and fierce – you are wounded and aching like many humans…but unlike others, you admit that that damage is inside you, and in the acknowledgement of that? You are profoundly strong. The sun always rises, Shoma. It is one of the few certainties we have. But it is the best – it means there is always the promise that, if you pick yourself up just long enough to open the shutters? You will find the light again.’ Shoma felt something hitch in his throat, felt the freeness of his chest suddenly tighten up again, only this time with a clench of pure, shocking, immense gratitude. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand and fought to breathe, letting out a small sound that was caught and clipped as his brain couldn’t decide whether it wanted to weave the spell of Yuzuru’s name or simply offer him another thank you. And Shoma knew Yuzuru was smiling again, listening, as always, for Shoma’s words but still accepting his silence, understanding it enough to know the weight of its true meaning. ‘It’s just the truth, Shoma. You don’t have to thank me – this is simply how I see you.’ Shoma couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face, and he laughed softly, shaking his head against the pillow and curling in a little tighter, allowing himself to grasp on to the feeling of thunder rolling through his veins and pushing grateful, tentatively hopeful sunlight back in return.

For a moment the two of them fell into an easy peace, their powers pushing and pulling and running wild inside their chests; it was like they were sitting in the garden, Shoma sprawled out on the grass by Yuzuru’s side, listening to him talk in circles and trying not to fall asleep. And maybe, despite the distance, they had never stopped walking together – maybe they were still in step with one another just the same way they had been when Shoma was close enough to reach out and hook their fingers together. For a moment he let himself miss that feeling – Yuzuru’s fingers slender and curiously rough, his body all music and his eyes alight. It didn’t seem so far away in that moment, though. Yuzuru’s midnights were his again – or at least, this midnight was, another thing to hold on to which would be turned to memory by the dawn’s light. One last night. One more conversation. Just one, he was adamant even as he let himself sink further into the moment – he would allow himself this one exception, just so he could replace the memory of hailstones and a kiss pressed sadly to his forehead. If he could just get this one re-do he would be ok; a second chance to say goodbye in a way which felt like a more peaceful end to the story, with a memory he would find easier to come back to. Falling asleep to the sound of Yuzuru’s breathing, the pleasant echo of his laugh: that was something happy, something which didn’t have thorns to bring fresh pain every time he risked pulling it from his memory and holding it to his chest, something which he might be able to hold on to without aching for it too badly.

‘Are you calmer now?’ Yuzuru asked him after a minute or so had passed, reverently hushed, as though he were reluctant to break the spell of their silence. It was a pointless question for someone who could sense Shoma’s very core with such clarity, but there was something soothing in the question being asked all the same – something infinitely kind in his determination to allow Shoma to decide whether he gave this information or not. Shoma hummed softly, almost dazed, and his lips curved into a brief, wistful smile.  
‘Yes,’ he murmured. Then he let out a sigh ‘But still not enough to sleep.’ His body was heavy, the warm pressure of Itsuki behind him making him feel a little fuzzier, but there were still ghosts nagging at his edges, still faces in the shadows and whispers in the silence. His forehead creased into a frown and he huffed lightly into the dark, defeat and acceptance and the need for Yuzuru to have his honesty all spilling out of him in a rush of breath. ‘I can’t clear my head,’ he admitted quietly, and Yuzuru made a sound that was as knowing as it was sympathetic.  
‘Shoma.’ He said it in the musical, spellbinding way again – enchanting and full of caring. It could’ve sounded pitying from someone less…Yuzuru. But from him it was like a touch, like knuckles dragging along his jawline, like fingertips pressing at the corners of his eyes. Shoma could taste sea salt and lightning on his lips again. Like a kiss beneath blurring city lights.  
‘People are watching. Listening. Knowing more than they should and twisting everything until I can’t remember what’s real,’ Shoma let out into the quiet. ‘I don’t understand. And…it scares me. The way they talk and the things they say.’ He drew in a somewhat shuddery breath. ‘And then…there was someone was following me today. It was…too much and it all hit at once.’ Yuzuru was quiet for a beat – his thunder didn’t flicker, the force of his focus still fresh and potent inside Shoma’s chest, but somehow Shoma knew he was frowning, could just picture the furrow of his forehead and the dark intensity of his eyes.  
‘They were press? Or something else?’ he asked at last, careful and just a little more tense than he had sounded before, and Shoma bit his lip.  
‘Maybe press. But I don’t know for sure…I got away from them and haven’t seen them since.’ For a moment Yuzuru was that sort of quiet Shoma recognised from lectures – the still, calm, piercing sort of quiet where his eyes glinted as he turned information into a calculation in his head, and for some reason it sent a pleasant shiver down Shoma’s spine, like his body remembered the thrill of it that his mind was insisting should be shut out for being too dangerous.  
‘I will talk to Brian and the ministry,’ Yuzuru said then, slow but decisive, piercing Shoma’s thoughts and almost making him jump. ‘They have someone assigned to take my calls day or night for exactly these reasons, someone who can put a stop to these things and keep an eye on it all so we don’t have to. Now that person will be there for you too.’  
‘Yuzu-’  
‘Shoma.’ There was no arguing against the honey-thick sound of Yuzuru’s gentle, warning tone, and Shoma felt himself sink back against the pillow with a sigh. ‘I will send Itsuki their number,’ Yuzuru added then, and there was almost a laugh in his voice. ‘I can trust him to actually use it, after all.’ Shoma smiled despite himself, and he knew Yuzuru knew it. ‘There is stubborn, there is fierce, there is noble…and then there is you, huh?’  
‘I would’ve said the same about you too, Thunder Boy,’ Shoma managed in a whisper, and Yuzuru broke then, finally letting out his laughter, the sound of it soft but wild. And Shoma knew his head was thrown back, could almost feel the smile in his eyes; it soothed him, pressed him down into the mattress and ran its fingers through his hair. The last of Shoma’s instincts for self-preservation seemed to have been blown away on Yuzuru’s breeze; petals flew off in every direction, and in their place Yuzuru sat, keeping Shoma company in the dark. ‘Yuzu?’ Shoma ventured, quiet, careful and yet, somehow, sure.  
‘Yes, Shoma?’ Shoma swallowed hard and took a moment to gather his courage: the courage to admit he wasn’t steadfast enough just yet.  
‘Can you…can you just…stay. Can you maybe…keep talking to me? Until I fall asleep? Just for tonight?’  
‘Of course,’ Yuzuru murmured, no hesitation or question in his voice. ‘I can stay with you for as long as you need.’ Shoma almost wanted to cry, his whole body briefly thrumming with feeling; it was something so precious, so achingly important. Yuzuru was giving, unconditionally, to Shoma once again, even when he knew he would be expected to be gone again by daylight – Yuzuru was holding out a hand, but he wasn’t closing it around Shoma’s, instead letting Shoma simply feel the touch and hold on however tightly he needed until he finally felt ready to step back and turn away once more. They were barely fingertip to fingertip; Shoma could withdraw his hand without having to pull, without having to force his fingers to unclench. It was devastatingly sweet. Shoma squeezed his eyes more tightly closed against the threat of more tears.  
‘Thank you,’ he breathed, hoping his voice conveyed even the barest fraction of how much he felt the words, and Yuzuru let out another gentle hum, like he didn’t need telling. Shoma felt a rogue tear escape down his cheek, but he let it roll free and simply tried to remember the brush of Yuzuru’s fingerprints against his skin, the way he would have dismissed it with kind, casual ease. The memory was so strong Shoma wondered if he’d managed to conjure some imprint of it – his skin prickled in the spot where the tear had been, warm and golden.  
‘Shoma,’ Yuzuru said, the sound of his voice a lilting promise. ‘What else would I do, huh?’

And so Yuzuru began to talk. About everything and nothing – nonsense and stories and memories. Things Shoma had heard before which, somehow, Yuzuru must have remembered made him smile. Words, as always, were another power in him, and the softness with which he spoke them to Shoma was like a dream. He talked about a new, tiny blue butterfly that had taken to following him everywhere, even to his room at night. He talked about Kazuki’s talent for unexpected practice questions and his habit of applauding every answer Yuzuru gave, even the terrible ones. He talked about training his Warrior powers with Ghislain, how he used to sneak off for extra sessions with him when he was younger, always telling Ghislain that it was at Brian’s request until the two of them had conspired to catch him out, and when Shoma let out a sleepy laugh he made a small, indignant sound before laughing too and calling himself a nightmare. He told old stories, from the time before he became the hope of the world: his sister making him a crown of flowers to cheer him up when he was sick on his birthday, his father bumping him on the head with a rolled up newspaper when he got a fit of the giggles at his sister’s school prizegiving, Yuzuru and his mother not speaking to each other for a whole day because Yuzuru – at six years old – was convinced he shouldn’t be stopped from attempting to climb the tallest tree in the park to see if he could conjure a more effective petal storm. Shoma drifted in and out, paying more attention to some stories than others – he mostly let Yuzuru’s voice hum and heal and dance across his skin, enjoying the combination of static and sea-breeze that was so uniquely Yuzuru. There were idle remarks on the changing weather and the Foundation’s cliffs, a rambling, enthusiastic debate about whether the garden should have some willow trees. He mentioned Javier’s plans to work on a partnership program for new arrivals to help connect people across nationalities and categories, and Jun’s unfortunate run-in with Evgenia and Jason’s late-night sweet smuggling operation which had ended in a lollipop throwing war in the courtyard and a half-drowned Jun being hauled out of one of the pools by a weary Brian. He brought up Misha’s determination to create a new mural for the press building, the time Scott had broken of one of the residential building’s main doors due to (so he claimed) the disappearance of the “out of order” signs, and he even explained the Shibutanis’ attempts to design the ultimate power-based game to fill everyone’s Sunday afternoons with that bit more drama, since clearly there wasn’t enough of that going around. And, as Yuzuru talked, Shoma felt the gossamer threads between them growing stronger, his power and Yuzuru’s power finding each other over the ocean and instinctively twisting together; they always fit into place like that, like their powers had known each other a lifetime, like their edges had been cut from the same cloth and the frayed threads there were simply winding themselves back together.

‘Shoma?’ If it was twenty minutes or twenty years before Itsuki dared interrupt the moment, Shoma couldn’t be sure, but his voice was sleepy and cautious, and Shoma lifted his head, glancing behind him groggily, curious and confused. Itsuki had propped himself up just a little, and he was gazing at him with wide, inquisitive eyes. ‘You know you’re _glowing_ , right?’ For a moment Shoma simply blinked, blankly, in the face of Itsuki’s wonder, and then he slowly followed his gaze down to where the skin of his wrist felt hot and electric. His power mark was shimmering and bright, sparks pouring down from the sunbeams the same way they had amidst the broken glass in Malaysia, and Shoma’s lips twitched up into a sleepy, bewildered smile as he looked down at the dancing shapes – they almost looked like petals, he thought for a moment, and as he watched they began to fall further, drifting up his arm like they were being carried by a phantom breeze. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Yuzuru’s wings were stretching again. He sank back against the pillow, letting his eyelids droop once more and watching through his lashes as the strands of golden petals twisted themselves into new shapes, zigzagging into lightning bolts and turning briefly silver before their edges smoothed out and transformed them into ribbons of pure, shimmering power that fluttered and drifted and whirled into elegant shapes, like they were being scattered through a cloudless sky. Shoma’s breath stuttered just a little as the sensation tickled at his skin, the patterns there becoming something more – solid knots and ties crisscrossing over him and wrapping him up, winding and unwinding and binding into place just lightly enough that, if he moved, he knew they would fall away and dissolve.

‘…and of course, you know…sometimes it is possible to make gold out of the strangest things…’ Shoma focused back on Yuzuru’s voice and let out a faint, mildly overwhelmed laugh, and Yuzuru hummed in response, teasing and light. ‘Hmm…then you are still listening,’ he added, mischief in his voice but a gentleness there too that made Shoma sink back into his mattress with a lazy smile.  
‘So this is you?’ he asked, tired and fond, and Yuzuru huffed, faintly indignant in a way that made Shoma’s smile briefly widen, cracking the bitten skin of his lips.  
‘Hey; not everything is my fault all the time,’ Yuzuru chided, a childish pout in his voice and a crackle of pure warmth that Shoma felt to his core. ‘And besides, Shoma: it is all just energy for you and me – we are just two pieces of the universe who happened to find constellations when our stars were placed side by side. There is as much light in your darkness as in mine: after all, there is a sunburn inside my chest and petals on my floor. That is raw and messy and not my power at all…I know Shoma Magic when I feel it.’ Shoma’s cheeks felt hot and he briefly buried his face in his pillow; inside his chest his heart stuttered then swelled and it was an effort not to smile, an even greater effort not to cry. ‘Sometimes, Shoma…I think you forget you are powerful too. Sometimes you forget that where there is force there is always a certain physics at play – something governed by laws of give and take and constant balance. You are powerful. So am I. And in that way, neither one of us is as alone as we sometimes feel.’ Yuzuru made a small, vaguely teasing sound then – soft and indignant and kind all at once, piercing the weight of his words effectively. ‘So, unless you want to make any more wild accusations…I think I was in the middle of a story…’ he said lightly, and Shoma laughed, low and exhausted.  
‘Sorry,’ he sighed, curling around his pillow contentedly. ‘Don’t stop…please.’ The ribbons twisted around him, and he realised he recognised the way they moved – this was how Yuzuru would play with loose threads and daisy chains, how he would slip them through his fingers as he shared stories with Shoma at dusk in the garden.

As Yuzuru resumed his steady, quiet storytelling, Shoma felt Itsuki shift behind him, and after a moment he was surprised when something smooth and well-worn was laid over his shoulders. Itsuki settled back against him on the bed, and Shoma caught the barest hint of bergamot and jasmine and he smiled, pulling the jacket his brother had placed over him more tightly around him, briefly shooting Itsuki a grateful smile. With Yuzuru’s voice still calm and measured in the background, and the gentle fabric of the jacket against his cheek, it was almost like he was really there, lying on the grass beside him, beneath the conjured lilac clouds. The ribbons fluttered against his skin the same way the garden’s breeze did, and Shoma finally felt himself starting to drift off to sleep as they unravelled and lifted up over him in a constellation of gossamer silk, turning into a string of delicate, shimmering gold beads and arching overhead like a miniature galaxy, just for a little while, before slowly dancing off into the darkness in chains of gold and silver, dissolving into petals and butterflies as they disappeared. As Shoma finally let himself go, Yuzuru was laughing through his latest story, his voice bright and alive and full of wonder.  
‘…and there were so many stars, Shoma. It was a storm, but the moon was bright, and there were _so many stars_.’

Shoma woke up groggy and uncomfortable, squinting against the sunlight and half-suffocating beneath Itsuki’s weight. His brother was sprawled out, lying across him, his arm in Shoma’s face, and Shoma pushed him off, smirking slightly when he simply groaned his name in his sleep and barely shifted. It took a moment for Shoma to let his eyes adjust to the light; he realised slowly that there were cobwebs of gold caught in his hair and across his skin, and he blinked at them with a faint frown, letting the realisation that last night had been real take a moment to sink in – the remnants of his and Yuzuru’s magic were clinging to him, still dusting his skin, almost fizzing in the morning sunbeams which streamed across the bed. Shoma realised that he still had Itsuki’s phone in his hand, curled against his chest almost protectively, and he wondered absently what time he had fallen asleep, when it was Yuzuru had stopped talking and finally hung up the call. He stretched and picked his own phone up from his bedside table, rolling over and dislodging Itsuki from his shoulder with a graceless flop.  
‘Urgh,’ Itsuki let out, opening one eye. ‘What time is it?’  
‘Early. Go back to sleep,’ Shoma muttered distractedly, staring down at his phone screen and biting his lip. Yuzuru had sent him a message: “I fell asleep too. Brian found me still sleeping in the library and now I’m not allowed to study anymore. Goodnight, Shoma – or rather, good morning for you, I suppose.” – simple but sweet, somehow exactly what he needed. Shoma wanted to hold on to it, like there was a piece of Yuzuru he could keep forever in the words. He swallowed and swiped the notification away, pushing himself up from the bed and stepping over Yuzuru’s jacket where it had fallen in a tangled heap on the floor. As he moved the gold cobwebs fell away, and Shoma watched them dance in the dust motes before dissolving into nothing in a breath. He smiled slightly, shaking the last ones from his fringe – maybe the good was still with him after all.

He didn’t feel as sad as he had thought he might after letting himself lapse into Yuzuru’s company – the after-effects of his presence and his magic were still humming through his veins, making him lighter, easier, keeping the smile on his face regardless of the bittersweet aftertaste. Even the thought of having to go out didn’t fill him with quite so much dread as he had expected it would, although there was a mild uneasiness in the back of his mind at the thought that he would have to look over his shoulder, just in case the woman in the navy coat appeared again. He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, assessing the open suitcase in front of him and thinking it might be wise to use his unexpectedly early start to put some more of his things away before his mother realised he was yet to properly unpack. As he stared down at the heap of belongings in front of him, he heard Itsuki grumble something into his pillow, and he glanced back at him, watching him stretch out and roll over, throwing an arm over his face and blinking sleepily at him from under his elbow. He stared for longer than was necessary, and Shoma pulled a face. ‘What?’ he asked, and Itsuki shrugged.  
‘Nothing. You just seem…good. Happier.’ Shoma’s lips twitched and he quickly turned back to his suitcase with a sigh.  
‘I just needed the sleep, I guess,’ he said with a vague wave of his hand, and Itsuki made a small, sceptical sound in response.  
‘Sure. It was the sleep that did it.’ Shoma chose to ignore him.

The silence held for a few moments, and then Shoma heard Itsuki huff and push himself up in the bed. ‘Sho.’  
‘Mm?’  
‘What…actually was that whole thing with Yuzu last night?’ Shoma paused in what he was doing, turning to look back at his brother with a mild, confused expression, and Itsuki glanced down, biting his lip and shifting awkwardly. ‘I mean that whole…light show…thing…the power stuff.’ He shrugged, tilting his head and looking back up somewhat hesitantly. ‘What did it mean? And how did it even happen?’ Shoma sniffed, looking down.  
‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled, flicking his hair out of his face with a sigh. ‘Our powers always just…seem to find each other. Mine’s always wanted direction and…I think maybe his has always just needed the extra spark. I think when that gets mixed in with the sensing…it’s like our powers are drunk on having what they need on tap…my power just…goes, and his power likes the challenge of trying to shape it.’ Shoma shrugged awkwardly. ‘Yuzu would probably explain it better – he lives for that stuff.’ Itsuki was quiet for a moment, but Shoma could feel his eyes still studying him.  
‘But…across that kind of distance, Sho…? That’s…that’s more than just power, right? That’s…that’s got to be about…who the two of you are…hasn’t it?’ Shoma shrugged again, his whole body tensing, and he tried to keep the feeling down, tried not to let Itsuki see how much the words affected him. Itsuki pursed his lips, looking at Shoma somewhat despairingly, like he saw everything but knew he wouldn’t get any answers any time soon. He flopped back down against the pillow, folding his arms and taking a moment to consider his next question – relenting but not entirely backing down. ‘So…what, he healed you, then? Like healing the panic out of you to make you calm down?’ Shoma’s expression softened a little, some of the tension going out of him. He shook his head.  
‘Not really…it’s hard to explain but…’ He blew out a breath and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to organise his thoughts. ‘It’s like he knows how to heal just enough to give me room to breathe? He makes me feel safe enough to just be myself again, like my own thoughts and feelings are the only things in my head – the other stuff goes away, making things seem quieter and easier to break down. And it’s like it lets me know what to do with my own power suddenly. He heals me just enough that I can pull it together and heal myself, maybe.’ Itsuki tipped his head slightly, his eyes uncomfortably knowing.  
‘And…that’s really something you’re willing to give up? Just because it comes with all this other stuff on the side?’ Shoma shot him a half-hearted glare.  
‘I keep telling you, ok? It’s not…it’s not like it’s a choice, it’s not something I want it’s just…how it is. His future is at the Foundation, it’s that simple.’  
‘And yours…isn’t? You’re really sure about that? Not ever?’ Itsuki ventured. Shoma turned sharply away from him.  
‘Leave it, Itsuki. I’m not having this conversation with you again,’ he said, more snappily than he had intended.  
‘Sho-’  
‘I’m serious. Drop it,’ Shoma muttered, his eyes still steely but his voice a little softer as he turned to look back at Itsuki again. ‘I need to go get ready or I’ll be late meeting Sota – I don’t have the time to get into this.’ Itsuki nodded reluctantly, looking down at the covers and pulling at the fabric with a somewhat wounded expression that instantly made Shoma feel like the worst brother in the world. ‘Look, I’m sorry…I just…I don’t want to fight with you, but…I’m tired of talking about it. I’m expected to have all these answers and…I just don’t right now.’ Itsuki looked up at him with a twitch of a smile and Shoma offered him a small smile back, the atmosphere instantly thawing between them – they were useless at being mad with each other.  
‘Ok,’ Itsuki sighed. ‘I get it, I guess. And I mean…I saw what happened with Yuzu. He didn’t even ask you what was wrong…but you still told him, in the end. He just gave you the opening. You get there in your own time – I should try harder to let you.’ Shoma’s smile widened just a little, and he scrunched his face up.  
‘Yeah, well…maybe I should try to get there quicker sometimes.’ He sighed, looking down again and shrugging somewhat shyly. ‘And…I owe you a thank you anyway,’ he admitted softly. ‘For ignoring me and just calling him. That was…a good decision. And it was what I needed, even if I didn’t want it to be.’ He glanced up at Itsuki, who shot him a warm smile, his eyes sparkling.  
‘Anytime, Sho…I mean…proving you wrong is kinda fun, after all.’ Shoma laughed.  
‘You’re such a brat, you know that?’  
‘I pride myself on it, actually,’ Itsuki grinned.

Shoma had to catch a bus and two different trains to make it to the beach where he had agreed to meet Sota, but, for all that he was nervous at the potential awkwardness of seeing him again after so long, Shoma knew he would’ve agreed to travel almost any distance if Sota asked him to; he always felt a sense of duty to those he cared about, and, beside his brother, Sota was his oldest, closest friend, someone he had practically grown up with until circumstances had conspired against them. They had met about a year after Shoma’s healing power had been exposed by the car accident, when local authorities had recommended that someone as powerful as him at such a young age should probably be more closely supervised and helped along in his development and his mother’s only hint of a compromise had been to take him to a local group for children with powers which met every second Saturday so the parents could exchange stories and the children could run wild with other children who wouldn’t freak out too much should someone accidentally conjure their painting to life or freeze the sandpit mid-castle-building. Shoma had mostly hated the gatherings; they were loud and chaotic and, although the other kids were friendly, Shoma was shy and awkward, too quiet to ever really feel a part of things and somehow so small that even the younger kids tended to forget to include him in things. One day, it had been too much – his mother had been busy talking to the other parents, and most of the group had been engrossed in some game or other that Shoma didn’t understand, so he had gone to sit alone at the back of the room to watch and wait until it was time to go home. Sota was the only person in the whole group who had noticed him break away, and he had come and sit in silence beside him, offering him one of his sweets and not expecting anything in return. He was younger than Shoma, but Shoma had never really seen him that way – had actually looked up to him, if anything, because he was bold and clever and always the leader, kind and calm but somehow self-assured. It had taken three weeks of Sota sitting at the back of the room with Shoma eating sweets, but eventually he had got past Shoma’s solemn, timid silence and brought out the sly, mischievous streak in him, much to his delight, and the two of them had been partners in crime for the next ten years of their lives. Shoma didn’t like to admit how often he wished he could go back; he hated change and goodbyes and the way people and things could be so different to how you remembered them after even the smallest time apart.

The beach was one of their regular haunts from their high school days, somewhere Shoma could have probably managed to get to in his sleep he had made the journey so many times. He and Sota never used to go there in the summer, because Shoma hated the crowds and Sota hated the heat, but for most of the rest of the year they would both regularly make the almost-two-hour journey from their homes in order to enjoy an afternoon talking and throwing stones and doing nothing much of anything at all. Sometimes Shoma would let Itsuki come too, and the three of them would run around and laugh at nothing and field frequent calls from their parents to assure them that no one had drowned, but usually it was just Shoma and Sota, walking aimlessly across the sand until there was nowhere left to walk and nothing left to talk about. Shoma always got home late and bone-tired and content, and it ached to realise he couldn’t remember the last time he and Sota had shared one of those days.

Despite his early start, Shoma arrived a full fifteen minutes late, having spent a good deal of time looking over his shoulder and scrutinising the faces of every stranger; Yuzuru had calmed his fears, but he couldn’t take them away entirely, and there was still something deeply unsettling about the woman he had seen the previous day, something he couldn’t place and his subconscious seemed determined to wrestle to the surface. He had managed to shake most of his twitchiness by the time he arrived at the beach, however, a great weight of good memories instantly settling over him the moment he smelt the sea air. It was different, somehow, to the salt-heavy thickness of the Foundation’s cliffs – the breeze was lighter and gentler, and where the Foundation’s beach was all threatening black rock and turbulent seafoam, the beach here was a messy scrub of washed-out paint, dashed-off and peaceful. Shoma narrowed his eyes against the coolness of the breeze coming in off the ocean and shivered slightly.

When he spotted Sota standing halfway across the sand, all notion of awkwardness at the time and distance that had lapsed between them was instantly forgotten: for a moment Shoma was seven again, running across a crowded sports hall to see the one person there he actually wanted to talk to, twelve and racing his brother on a Saturday afternoon to meet Sota at the bus stop, fourteen and ducking through a mass of bodies on the last day of term to see Sota one last time before the holidays, sixteen and pelting hard out of the school gates to get a bus to the hospital and make sure Sota’s latest fall wasn’t as serious as it sounded.

Sota noticed him late, but the moment he did, a wide, wild smile broke out instantly across his features, and he waved with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm as Shoma hurtled towards him.  
‘SHOMA!’ Sota’s voice was familiar and delighted, and Shoma laughed, carefree and recklessly happy as he slowed his pace to come to a skidding halt in front of him. ‘Can I hug you?’ Sota asked – and Shoma could’ve cried if he hadn’t been smiling so wide. The same question he had asked Shoma as they said goodbye the day they first met, when Shoma’s answer had been a timid shake of his head. The question Sota had asked every time they met after that for a solid six months before finally, one day, not long before Shoma’s seventh birthday, Shoma had finally given a timid smile and agreed – Sota had been so stupidly thrilled, but he had never once not asked before hugging Shoma since. Shoma had never again denied him either, though. As Sota arched a teasingly questioning eyebrow at him, Shoma smirked slightly, rolling his eyes and wrinkling his nose; he nodded, trying to seem begrudging, but he was unable to hide his grin as Sota beamed and threw his arms around him, crashing into him with raw joy and a soft laugh. ‘Yeah, you’d better agree: you owe me for not hugging me goodbye when you left for the Foundation,’ Sota told him, and from anyone else it would’ve been a dig, but from Sota there was only fondness in the words. He’d known Shoma too long to misunderstand his reasons for not making a big deal of his departure – although Shoma was fairly certain Sota had never managed to hold a grudge against anyone in his life in any case.

Shoma leant into the hug more than he normally would, smiling at the sound of Sota’s laughter by his ear. He knew they probably looked ridiculous, standing in the middle of a deserted beach, a nonsense of opposites just like they always had been. Sota was, in many ways, everything Shoma wasn’t; he had a lean, wiry frame which made him look taller than he really was, and his face was narrow and angled, something wise in it that gave him the aura of someone older. Where Shoma’s eyes were owlish and wide, Sota’s were almost too small for his face, always bright with something and all but disappearing when he smiled with thin, expressive lips. As they stood back and looked at each other in mild bewilderment Shoma took a moment to try and pick out any hint of change in his friend’s face – it was difficult, with a face he knew almost as well as his own, to see any difference, but he could tell something had shifted, and he wondered if Sota saw something similar in him. Sota still looked older than him somehow, but that was nothing new – even when Shoma had finally lost the roundness in his cheeks, he knew people still found him difficult to figure out, something he put down to his height and the way most of his facial expressions seemed to be easily mistranslated by those who didn’t know him well – but in his energy Shoma could feel something different, familiar to a point but somehow quieter, less excitable than what he remembered. Shoma wasn’t sure how it made him feel to realise how much they had both grown up since they had last met. ‘So…this is weird, right?’ Sota said into the pause, and Shoma let out a groan of a laugh, tipping his head back and closing one eye as though he needed to carefully consider the point.  
‘I mean…I’m not the best person to ask about judging any kind of social interaction. Until recently I had, like, two actual close friends…and one of them is Itsuki…who doesn’t count because he’s literally known me his whole life.’ He looked at Sota with a wry smile, offering him a one shouldered shrug. ‘Mostly, I don’t even know what’s going on half the time, so who am I to say what’s weird and what’s not.’ Sota smirked at him fondly.  
‘But hey…the other friend you mentioned is me, right? So…clueless or not, you hit the lottery on that score at least – there’s no such thing as awkward for you and me,’ Sota grinned, and Shoma gave him a small shove as he tried and failed to bite back a laugh.  
‘Shut up,’ he said through a smile, rolling his eyes. ‘You know I’ve made other friends recently – I could still kick you off the list.’  
‘Oo, mysterious new friends – from the Foundation, right?’ Sota asked, turning his body slightly and tipping his head in an invitation for them to start walking. Shoma’s smile gentled and he gave a small nod, looking down as the two of them moved off.  
‘Yeah. I mean…most of them are a pain, but…so am I so…’ He gestured vaguely, shrugging again and pulling a face, and Sota let out a soft laugh, bumping into his side.  
‘You’re a loveable pain, though,’ he said confidently. The corner of Shoma’s lips twitched up into a small, shy smile, and he bumped Sota back lightly.

For a few moments the two of them fell into a heavy quiet, listening to the sound of the ocean, their eyes down on the sand in front of them as they thought. It wasn’t uncomfortable – Shoma remembered this ritual from when they were growing up, the way Sota would create little pockets of space for Shoma to think in before he tried to broach whatever issue he knew was on his mind. ‘So…’ Sota said at last, and Shoma cast him an expectant, sidelong glance. ‘The Foundation thing…didn’t work out, huh?’ Shoma bit his lip.  
‘It’s…complicated,’ he muttered mostly to his feet. Sota let out a soft, contemplative hum.  
‘Ah, complicated. The Shoma Speciality,’ he nodded. Shoma attempted to shoot him a glare and Sota ignored him, keeping a light, almost mischievous smile on his lips and gazing over at the grey, roaring ocean with narrowed eyes. ‘I saw you on the news. You…looked half-asleep at times, and maybe a little lost…but you seemed to fit in to me.’ Sota glanced back at Shoma then, arching an eyebrow. ‘So I’m guessing the complicated part must be something to do with some of those new friends, huh?’ Shoma looked up sharply.  
‘Did you talk to Itsuki?’ Sota blinked in surprise.  
‘Sho, I’ve barely talked to you since the whole Foundation invite – why would I have been having secret conversations with your brother?’ Shoma winced and shook his head, quickly looking back down with a huffy sigh.  
‘Sorry. I’m just…’  
‘A mess?’ Sota asked, eyes twinkling impishly as he waggled his eyebrows at Shoma, something both teasing and knowing in the way he knocked their elbows together. ‘What else is new, Sho.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘It’s fine. You don’t have to talk about it. I was just curious, that’s all. I mean, I know you: once you set your mind at something? You tend to stick it out. I was kind of expecting you to be the one who finally saved the world, actually.’ Off Shoma’s sceptical look Sota shrugged, his smile gentling. ‘You’re the most dedicated, powerful, caring person I know, Shoma. That’s a pretty cool combination – I hope the Foundation knows they were lucky to have you.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘They have Yuzu to save the world. I’m just…the guy who stood next to him and put up with his terrible jokes.’ He glanced up at the cloudless, dirty-blue sky and let out a heavy sigh. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway.’ Sota nodded – slow and dubious – but he didn’t push, instead shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking at a loose stone in the sand, blowing out a breath that somehow seemed to set the peace back around them again.

‘So, did you miss me whilst you were off… _not_ saving the world?’ Sota asked lightly into the quiet, and Shoma attempted a glare, his lips curling up slightly at one corner.  
‘Please, you know I missed you, ok? We’ve been friends for forever,’ he muttered, rolling his eyes before looking down with a shrug. ‘Besides, I should be pretty good at missing you by now anyway – I’ve been doing it for years, right?’ Sota’s smile was quiet and dry, and his eyes shone slightly as he gave a slow nod.  
‘Hmm, I was wondering how long it would take for that to come up,’ he said softly, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound…’ He sighed. ‘I wasn’t getting at you – it’s not like it’s your fault they sent you away. And I was a crappy friend who always made you be the first one to pick up the phone. I didn’t want to make it sound like I was making it about me when you were the one going through all that stuff…I just-’  
‘Sho,’ Sota cut him off gently, his voice kind and so low it almost disappeared beneath the sound of the waves. ‘You don’t have to explain it to me, ok? You need space to process the big stuff, and you function on your own wavelength…but those of us you’ve actually let in? We know you’re worth the wait. So it’s fine, ok? I didn’t mind having to be the one to reach out.’ He shrugged then, his smile small but his eyes bright as he nudged Shoma slightly, tipping his head to try and meet his gaze. ‘Besides, I knew if I really needed something? You would’ve been there and you wouldn’t even have hesitated. You always come through when it counts, Sho. Everyone knows that about you.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a faintly embarrassed smile, and he shook his head slightly, looking away with a small laugh.  
‘Doesn’t change the fact I didn’t even ask you how you were doing…or what it was like. I didn’t even ask you if you were ok.’  
‘I would’ve told you if I wasn’t,’ Sota shrugged blithely, like it was nothing, and Shoma shot him a curious glance.  
‘Really? So you actually…liked it there?’  
‘Hospital walls suck. But they had wifi and let me use my phone – that was something. And anyway, some of the tests they did on my power were…kind of fun, honestly. Not that any of them really fixed it, but whatever was causing the headaches and the falls…sort of…went away. Or at least calmed down enough for them to actually let me come back home. They’re even considering letting me try to work on my power again now, in small doses. So, in the long run? That probably makes it worth it. And the important part is that I was in a place where there was a chance of fixing things – that’s better than when I was just clueless about what was even going on with me, you know?’ Shoma looked up at Sota with a small, disbelieving curve of a smile, and he shook his head slightly, letting out a breath of a laugh.  
‘You’re amazing, you know that?’ he said quietly. Sota shot him a curious look.  
‘I mean, sure…’ he said slowly, letting out a small laugh. ‘But why, exactly?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow, and Shoma shrugged, his lips twisting to one side in a shy, considering expression as he tipped his head in thought.  
‘It’s just that…even after everything, even after the falls and the moving and the tests and the hospitals and the endless questions…even after your power totally giving out on you…you still have the energy left to believe in things. Your power has done nothing but screw up your plans for years now…and yet you don’t…I don’t know…hate everything, get mad, go crazy…give the whole thing up and just let it go.’ Shoma bent to pick up a pebble, straightening and turning it over in his hand for a moment before looking up at Sota from the corner of his eye. ‘Even when everything in the universe keeps trying to tell you it’s no good and everything just ends or breaks…you ignore it, you get up…and you do it all over again, like it’s not going to hurt you. Like the magic’s still coming. Like it’s not going to kill when it disappears all over again.’ Shoma sighed and hurled the stone out to sea, pausing for a moment to watch it splash and disappear into the deep. ‘You still hope for things…despite all the evidence it’s useless.’

Sota came to stand beside him, reaching down to pick up a pebble of his own and knocking their shoulders together as he straightened back up.  
‘You have to hope for things, Shoma,’ he pointed out gently. He turned his pebble over thoughtfully. ‘What would happen if we all stopped hoping for things? If everyone just folded in on themselves because happy and magical seemed impossible?’ He launched his stone, high and fast, and the two of them watched it cut a dramatic arch through the air, landing even further than Shoma’s had. ‘Magic happens because someone tried something crazy once, or because someone looked at something everyone else had dismissed as ordinary and saw something beautiful instead. Magic can only sustain itself with more magic, Sho – everything has to come from somewhere, right? You can’t take out more than what’s been put in, I don’t think. So…how could I ever expect my power to come back if I didn’t put something out there for it to draw on? Like a little hope. Like a little stubborn belief. The sort of magic I don’t need my power for.’ Shoma smiled lightly, closing his eyes for a moment and letting out a sigh.  
‘You sound like Yuzu,’ he whispered. Sota hummed.  
‘Yuzu as in Yuzuru Hanyu?’ Shoma nodded and Sota shot him a lopsided smile. ‘Call me crazy, Sho, but I think I’ll take that as a compliment.’ Shoma let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes.  
‘Yeah, well…I don’t know why. Yuzu is a pain. Don’t believe what you see on TV: he’s the loudest, dumbest human you’ll ever meet and his laugh could be used to scare off birds at airports.’ Shoma bit his lip and sighed. ‘He hopes for things too, though. No matter how many times the universe lets him down.’ He could feel Sota’s kind, curious eyes studying him, and he didn’t bother to put up any defences against it. ‘For me? Hope just seems like an invitation for disappointment. Hoping for something small or mundane or obviously in your own control? That’s one thing. But hoping for something impossible and wild? Hoping for things that are out of your hands, even in situations where the world’s already let you down a hundred times? That’s just…asking to get hurt, isn’t it? People leave, things break. And everything always ends up hurting more than you expect it to.’

Sota leant into his side, and Shoma closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and taking comfort from the un-judging quiet he offered. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of the ocean and the kind, forgiving peace of Sota’s presence beside him – someone who knew all the messy contradictions and complicated workings of Shoma’s inner world and never held them against him. The wind stung a little as it ruffled Shoma’s hair and he closed his eyes against it – his smile was sad but calm, and though the conversation should have seemed heavy, Shoma didn’t feel weighed down by it. Instead it was a relief to admit it aloud to one of the people who knew all too well Shoma’s tendency to shut himself off from the things which had wounded him.  
‘You know, Shoma…you’re a pretty practical person. You take the facts in front of you and you make an assessment. You make your call ahead of time about whether or not you’re going to let yourself get attached to something, and most of the time? That’s fine: you’re too realistic to risk taking the leap for something substandard. But you’re almost too practical, you know? Because you’re so much of a pessimist that you don’t even stop at assuming the worst sometimes, you outright deny the possibility of something turning out for the best.’ Sota bumped his shoulder again, a fond sort of reprimand that almost made Shoma smile. ‘Honestly, existing? Can really suck sometimes. We all know it. We’ve all curled up on our own in a dark room somewhere and sworn we’d rather not do it anymore. I think that’s valid. The hope doesn’t have to exist right in the middle of the pain, the hope can come later. But…it’s not going to come without an invitation, you know? The thing about being alive? You’re going to get hurt whether you take a chance on things or not – bad things happen all the time, even when you think you’ve protected yourself from them. Pain and loss and awfulness will slam right through the door regardless, and they’ll stay even if you pull the curtains closed, put your hands over your ears and hold your breath. But the good stuff? The best laughs and the stupid triumphs, the crazy happiness and the wild stories? They’re more polite, I guess – they need to know you want them to come in. You have to show…some sort of willing. A little hope or faith or belief – it’s a gamble. But sometimes it pays off. And it makes it a bit easier the next time the crappy stuff comes and bangs down your door, demanding an audience and staying past its welcome. Because it’s good – to have those memories at your back, reminding you that feeling everything on the spectrum is actually kind of important, even if it’s hard sometimes. Context and contrast and all that, you know?’ Shoma closed his eyes and buried his hands in his pockets, drawing his shoulders up protectively. Sota jabbed an elbow in his side. ‘Hope and magic – they’re as self-sustaining as power: I mean, we’ve always been taught that our powers exist because there is magic in the world to draw from, right? And since our powers put more magic back in, the whole thing keeps turning. So then you have to look at the non-power magic the same way. The dreams and the wishes and the memories. Magic won’t happen in an empty space…so how can you ever hope to believe in miracles if you don’t let yourself experience them? It’s how everything in the world goes on, Sho, even when it seems like it would be easier to just quit.’

Shoma was quiet for a little while, staring out towards the faint line in the distance where the sky met the sea, the pale grey-blue of it lit by the faint yellow of the cloud-covered sun. The wind whipped up trails of sea foam and sent undulating swirls of storm-blue through the dark grey expanse, churning everything up and then pulling it back under, water crashing over water and a roar in the air as a single sea bird – a faint white speck – dipped and glided precariously on the whip of the breeze, seeming to drift ever-further out over the ocean and fighting to keep its path steady. Shoma breathed in deep, felt the faint sting and thrum the sea gave off, the whisper of childhood memories through the air and the calm hum of Sota’s energy unwavering beside him. There was a pull of longing for something in his chest, but he didn’t know what for; a longing to simply be at peace with his choices, perhaps, to be able to look at the good and the bad the way Sota and Yuzuru always did, with calm, sparkling eyes and a sense of clarity.  
‘I’m not afraid of making mistakes. I’m not even afraid of the pain…I mean, not any more than anyone else. I just…I’m afraid of feeling haunted. By questions with no right answers and…the feeling that I put my foot down in the wrong place, somehow…and ended up somewhere I don’t belong, always looking backwards and trying to work out what I should have done differently, how I could have made all the unknowns seem less important.’ He looked up at Sota cautiously from under his fringe, quirking his eyebrows hopefully, longing for someone to actually understand that anxious, unsettled feeling he so often felt beneath his skin. And to his relief Sota was nodding, slow and thoughtful, his eyes still on the skyline and his thin lips pressed together in an almost-smile.  
‘I get that,’ he said quietly, tipping his head to one side and narrowing his eyes a little. ‘But you know, Shoma…everyone’s just faking it, right? No one is ever as sure as they look. Not about the big stuff. The real certainties? I think they happen in moments; when you have to make that split-second decision and there isn’t time to talk yourself out of the path you ultimately take. Sometimes you can be so sure that you’re lost in these deep, dark woods…and then you hear a sound behind you and start running…and the next thing you know? You’re back where you need to be.’ Sota shrugged. ‘And maybe later, you find yourself looking back…and thinking “Should I have run? Should I have stayed? Did I even hear that noise at all or was it in my head?”, but…you have to try to remember the certainty you felt in that moment, I think, and the fact that…you did get where you wanted to be in the end. You can look back at things, but…maybe you shouldn’t stare. Nothing really holds up under that kind of scrutiny, I don’t think – the idealised picture will crumble in seconds. Remember the colours. Remember the sounds. Remember the way it felt to be there. But…don’t remember the shapes in the shadows. Try not to ask too many questions about what was a monster and what was just the crack of branches in the breeze.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, looking at Sota from the corner of his eye.  
‘Can’t I just…be the tree? That sounds…simpler, honestly.’ Sota slowly turned his head, his brow furrowing as he looked down at Shoma for a beat. And then, somehow, the air changed between them in a moment. Sota spluttered out a laugh, and Shoma’s own expression cleared, his eyes glinting and his smile impish and soft. ‘What?!’ Shoma asked through a laugh of his own.  
‘That is the most Shoma thing I have probably ever heard in my life,’ Sota chuckled, swotting at Shoma’s shoulder. ‘“Can’t I just be the tree?” – Shoma!’ Sota threw his head back with an exaggerated groan, and Shoma laughed too, high and childish as he wrinkled his nose and smacked Sota back petulantly.  
‘Shut up – I mean…what were you going on at, huh? It’s too early for metaphors.’  
‘It’s midday, Sho,’ Sota pointed out, eyes still dancing with affectionate amusement, and Shoma pulled a face.  
‘ _Exactly_ ,’ he deadpanned, widening his eyes for effect. ‘I’m about 90% sure I sleepwalked here – I’m running on Red Bull and some cake I found in the fridge.’ Sota snorted.  
‘I’d forgotten your balanced eating habits. No wonder you’re so cranky, huh?’  
‘Hey, I’m a delight,’ Shoma shot back with a playful glower, and Sota made a valiant attempt at hiding his smirk. ‘And anyone would be cranky with that much fancy imagery being thrown around on a Sunday afternoon – what is this, a literature lecture? No thanks. I know you’re an Artist, but you don’t need to go full-out to prove it to me,’ Shoma added with a small, sly smile, tipping his body to one side and lolloping off slightly with the motion, indicating for Sota to follow him.

As they began walking again, Sota bumped into Shoma’s side with force, laughing slightly as he lazily let himself get knocked off course with a faint groan.  
‘You know, I’m only _technically_ an Artist these days – maybe I do need to prove it, had you ever thought about that?’ Shoma’s eyes widened slightly, and he let out a soft sort of gasp, casting Sota an apologetic glance.  
‘I’m so sorry I didn’t-’ He cut himself off with a wince and a shake of his head, and Sota knocked him with his elbow, offering him a genuine smile and rolling his eyes.  
‘Shut up – don’t worry about it. I’m over it, honestly.’ Sota shrugged, unbothered and dismissive. ‘I’ve always liked that about you, Shoma: I could count on you not to treat me any differently no matter what was going on with my power, you know?’ Shoma quirked an eyebrow and Sota’s smile softened. ‘All I’ve heard since I was fourteen is “Are you ok?” or “Is it alright if we talk about this?” and “I’m so sorry to bring it up but…” – and it gets old pretty quickly, honestly. Although the worst is the people who are so obviously trying not to mention anything to do with it – tying themselves in knots trying avoid certain topics and ending up making it more of an issue than it needed to be. It’s ok to talk about it. It’s ok to admit I’m not normal if you want to. Or ignore it if you’d rather. But stop acting like it’s this landmine and you don’t know where to put your feet – _that’s_ what makes it awkward, not the talking.’ Sota sighed heavily. ‘But you, Shoma? No matter what happened, you never started treating me like I was breakable, or asking me a million questions, or apologising for the things you did say…you were just my friend, the same way you’d always been.’ He looked down then, digging the toe of his shoe into the sand – his expression went just a little sad and faraway and Shoma bumped his shoulder tentatively. Sota glanced up at him with a small smile. ‘That was what I missed most about having you around, I think. How easy it was to just be. How ok it was to not talk if I didn’t want…or to talk for hours and not be told to shut up, if that’s what I needed. And maybe that’s why I didn’t mind you not staying in touch – it would’ve made it worse, I think, because you wouldn’t have been able to do that over the phone…and maybe I would’ve ended up feeling less close to you by losing that, maybe the phone thing would’ve made you seem just like everyone else to me. And you’re not. You never will be. I promise.’ He met Shoma’s eyes with a calm fierceness that made Shoma smile, small but full, something happy and grateful filling him up. ‘You’re my oldest friend, Sho. And you’re one of a kind. If that wasn’t something the Foundation could find a place for? Then screw them – you’ll probably just save the world by accident one day anyway when no one’s looking.’ Shoma let out a laugh, wrinkling his nose at Sota and elbowing him in the ribs as he grinned shamelessly. ‘What? It’s true. That would sum up Shoma, to me: saving the world whilst probably still half-asleep, trying to find breakfast. It’s kind but chaotic – skilful but wild. That’s you, right there.’  
‘Please, I told you: they don’t need me to save the world. And anyway…I never said I left because they couldn’t find a place for me. It’s more like…they were too happy to find a place for me. It was too much and it was too fast and I…didn’t know if it was the right fit for me.’ Shoma shrugged uncomfortably, shoving his hands back in his pockets and looking down at his feet. ‘Honestly? I don’t think Brian would mind that much if I left and ended up saving the world. Not even if it was by accident. It’s not about the credit to him, you know? All he cares about is that the world gets to keep the colours…and that all his people make it out alive.’ A brief image of Yuzuru, surrounded by glass, his forehead cut and his features unnaturally quiet entered Shoma’s head, and he shuddered, drawing himself in a little more tightly. ‘Brian would probably be the first to thank me, come to think of it,’ he murmured, flicking his hair out of his eyes and looking up at the sky in an effort to shake the remembered panic away. Sota let out a thoughtful sigh, also burying his hands in his pockets as he narrowed his eyes against a sudden gust of wind.  
‘He sounds like a good guy, Brian Orser. I’ve always thought so but…you seem to think highly of him, and a Shoma estimation of someone is always more valuable, honestly.’ Sota’s lips twisted slightly, and Shoma couldn’t help but think there was something wistful in the way they curved at one corner. ‘I’d always thought people at the Foundation seemed like good people…you know, like their hearts were in the right place? It just always seemed right, that they should be the ones you could trust to fix things.’ Shoma’s own smile turned soft and fond, and he nodded slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.  
‘Yeah,’ he said quietly, his tone edged with nostalgia and exhaustion. ‘They are good people. The best people, probably. They’re powerful…but…they’re much more than that too. And they’re…kind of a family, I guess.’ 

Something had quietened in Sota, and Shoma nudged him gently, just enough to remind him that he was there to listen if he wanted. He saw Sota’s lips twitch into a brief smile, but his gaze stayed on the ground in front of them, his forehead pinching slightly as he frowned as though he was trying to puzzle something out in his head before he spoke again. Shoma let him have his time to think, content to walk in silence for as long as Sota needed; Shoma had always been happy to spend hours on end walking up and down this beach, waiting until Sota was ready to speak, and there was something infinitely comforting about the way they could fall back into it, even after so much time had passed.  
‘You know I always sort of thought we’d go to the Foundation together?’ Sota said at last, his voice so soft Shoma had to strain to hear him over the wind. ‘Or at least, you’d go and then…a couple of years later they’d ask me. It just seemed…logical, to me. That it was another thing we’d go through side by side, you know?’ He sighed heavily, shaking his head. ‘Then my power started going sideways…and the headaches and the falls and the missing school…and then the next thing I know they’re saying “Come to the research centre to recover” and your mum is telling my mum that the Foundation were making inquiries about your university plans and high school leaving dates and…suddenly nothing seemed so certain anymore.’ Sota sighed deeply, rolling his neck and pulling a face. ‘It doesn’t bug me as much as I thought it would – I mean, my powers still might figure themselves out one day, it’s not like my chance is over it’s just…going to take time, and sometimes you feel like you’re going nowhere. Some days I’d just lie in the hospital thinking of all the things I could’ve been doing with my power in that moment – and that’s stupid, because…I probably wouldn’t have been doing them, you know? My power was always just…there. Until it wasn’t.’  
‘Sometimes it hurts more to lose something that might have happened than something that definitely did, I guess. At least if it happened, you can have something to show for it. If it only…almost happened…’ Shoma swallowed hard and tried not to think of the warmth of Yuzuru’s skin pressed against his cheek, the taste of marshmallows still fresh on his lips and two gold wings stretching out at his touch. He tried not to think of the way he’d looked in the morning sunlight, leaning over him and touching delicate fingers to his jaw on their last day in Malaysia – he tried not to imagine the hundreds of nights and mornings which could have tasted just the same. ‘Almosts are the worst. You know too much and not enough at the same time, and you can never really explain to people what it is you’re sad about…because…it wasn’t really yours to begin with so…how can you miss it?’  
‘Talking from experience?’ Sota asked gently. Shoma offered him a small, sad smile.  
‘I guess. But we’re not talking about me.’ Sota let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes.  
‘No, I was done, honestly. I’m not going to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I’m going to pick myself up and put the work in – and maybe one day I’ll show up at the Foundation after all. There’s hope for me yet, you know?’ He cast a sly glance Shoma’s way, knocking into him with his elbow. ‘There’s hope for you too, I reckon.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Don’t count on it. Everyone who knows me knows I’m a hopeless case,’ he said archly, and Sota rolled his eyes, his smile fond. Shoma sighed. ‘You never told me you wanted to go the Foundation.’  
‘It never came up. We…never really talked about our powers.’ Sota laughed slightly, shaking his head. ‘I guess we didn’t need to. I mean…friends who don’t have powers, they ask all the time, right? What’s it like, can you do this, how do you do that…and it’s a big deal to them, because they can’t even imagine it. But why would you ask me what it’s like? You know: your powers might not be the same as mine, but they’re there – you understand what energy feels like, even if you don’t use it the same way.’ Shoma hummed his agreement and Sota shrugged. ‘Besides…your power did your head in half the time. I know how much it frustrated you that you couldn’t always control it how you wanted – it would’ve seemed…I don’t know…mean? To start asking you a heap of questions? And the only time you’re more dangerous than when you’re hungry? Is when you think you’re being tricked into admitting more than you want to.’ Shoma let out a soft laugh and Sota flashed him a grin. ‘You know I’m right – if looks could kill, Sho, then there’d be a trail of bodies in your wake from all the times someone’s underestimated how sharp you are just because you’re short and kind of lost-looking.’ Shoma kicked Sota’s shin and bit back a smile, and Sota laughed unapologetically. ‘And I guess I’d be dead too, huh?’  
‘Shut up,’ Shoma smirked, shaking his head, and Sota smiled even wider, bumping their shoulders together. Shoma staggered, almost tripping over his own feet, and barged Sota back in retaliation, laughing shamelessly when he groaned as his feet got splashed at by an incoming wave.

The two of them caught their breath a little, falling back into step and letting an easy silence wash back over them. The sun was breaking from behind the clouds, pale and flaxen but still warming, something soothing about the way the light lit the sea a brighter blue and made the waves seem less threatening. ‘So…you really think your power might come back?’ Shoma asked into the peace, and Sota hummed.  
‘Maybe. Who knows. Healers and doctors and power therapists…they don’t have any answers. And no matter how many power therapy sessions they put me through, or how many tests they ran or how many questions they asked my parents…none of them could even figure out for sure what started it. So why not believe they’ll come back, huh? It’s not like anyone can say for sure they won’t.’ Shoma frowned.  
‘Wait…they sent you all the way to their special power hospital…and they still didn’t even figure out for sure how it started?’ He wrinkled his nose in distaste, shaking his head somewhat indignantly, and Sota laughed at him, giving his shoulder a smack.  
‘Shoma, don’t judge,’ he grinned, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Please. They probably should’ve just let you come to the Foundation, you know. Because if the mentors there couldn’t figure it out? Trust me: Yuzu would.’  
‘Oh he would, huh? He’s as special as they say he is, then? Shoma Certified and all?’ Shoma couldn’t help but smile, lifting one shoulder in an attempt at seeming casual that he didn’t think would fool Sota for a moment.  
‘Sure, Yuzu’s special alright,’ he said dryly, his expression wicked but his eyes shining. ‘He’s relentless and wild and stubborn as hell, and if you put a problem in front of him he will make it his mission in life to find fifty different ways to solve it.’ Shoma pulled a face. ‘Also? If you don’t keep his brain occupied? He usually finds trouble. So him trying to figure out what happened to your power? Could only be a good thing. Brian would probably assign it as a special project or something – anything so he could worry about Yuzu just a little bit less for five minutes.’ Sota laughed, nodding in consideration of the point.  
‘Well, I don’t want to sound like I’m doubting him or anything, but I think even the great Yuzuru Hanyu would have to accept the standard line on what’s wrong with me,’ he sighed, and Shoma frowned.  
‘And what’s the standard line?’  
‘That it had to have been stress or something. I mean, it was right before exams, remember? And I had my try-out for those guys – what are they called? The Productivity Alliance or something?’ Shoma jerked to a halt, looking up at Sota with wide eyes, his forehead creasing just slightly as confusion, intrigue and mild panic fought to take priority in his brain.  
‘Wait, your what? With who?’ Sota shot him a perplexed sidelong glance and turned to face him with a casual shrug.  
‘You remember all this, right? They came to our power group a few times before we stopped going – I think they tried to get your mum to let you have an interview and some tests or something too? But…your mum always said no to anyone who wasn’t the Foundation. But my mum didn’t see the harm in it.’ Shoma blinked, trying to bring any recollection of this to mind and failing; his mother had guarded against any organisation that made an approach relating to his powers, fiercely protective and largely against their motives and missions, and there was little chance she had bothered even telling him the precise details of what offers she had turned down, less chance still that he would’ve paid much attention if she tried. He did, however, remember the week of Sota’s first fall; it had happened after a maths exam – Shoma had been waiting for him outside when he saw him go over, and had been able to heal him of his bruises but not of the ensuing headache. It had been awful, and Shoma had felt so guilty for not being able to do more he had stayed under a cloud of misery for the rest of the week, almost ruining his own exams as a result. Sota had ended up taking half of his exams a week later, after tests had been able to find nothing wrong with him and his dizziness had finally subsided. Yet still Shoma couldn’t recall any talk of a try-out with the Alliance.  
‘But…we were still in school…what were the Alliance even trying you out for?!’  
‘Yeah, that always seemed weird to me too. I think I was the youngest person they ever dealt with? But they said they wanted to test my power so…’ Sota shrugged, looking at Shoma thoughtfully. ‘Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?’ Shoma swallowed, biting at his bottom lip with renewed vigour and shaking his head slightly.  
‘It’s probably nothing it’s just-’ He cut himself off with a huff of breath, trying to shake the tension that had settled over him. ‘I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this…but…Yuzu and Brian, right before I left? They were starting to really get onto something about the Grey Zones.’  
‘So?’  
‘So…it connected back to the Alliance, Sota,’ Shoma said, looking up into his friend’s face with dark, worried eyes. Sota’s eyebrows drew together in a deep, uncomprehending frown.  
‘But…how?’  
‘They didn’t know,’ Shoma said with a slight wince. ‘Yuzu would’ve told me more if I asked but…I didn’t really see him…in the days before I left. He probably had a theory. He’s always coming up with theories.’ He shook his head. ‘But that still doesn’t explain why they would want a fourteen-year-old to do a trial with them. Or why that should’ve affected your powers.’ Sota didn’t look convinced so Shoma attempted a dismissive wave of his hand, looking away. ‘I’m just on edge about them, I guess. I didn’t want Yuzu to go to the Alliance…and…it just spooks me to think someone else I know came that close to going there too, you know?’ he sighed. Sota pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.  
‘Sure…I guess that makes sense,’ he said slowly. ‘And anyway – they looked into it, you know? At the time. But no one else had ever lost power after a try-out with them, so they dismissed it.’  
‘But no one else they tried out was fourteen…and most of them went on to just vanish anyway,’ Shoma muttered, staring intently at a point in the distance, his mind unable to let the issue go. ‘Do you remember what they did? How it went?’ Sota sighed – the sigh he always sighed when he humoured one of Shoma’s intense fixations, gentle and non-judgemental, vaguely fond and faintly intrigued.  
‘Not really…I was so beat after the tests I fell asleep right there in the guy’s office, and when I woke up everything was blurry. I’d been revising until late the night before, and I was pretty worried with how the whole thing was going to go…so I didn’t think much of it.’ His expression changed then, his face crumpling into a brief frown. ‘There was one weird thing I remember, though: when I woke up, this woman was in there, asking the guy all these questions in English. I didn’t really follow, but I do remember, before she left, he told her “It must be the other one” and she told him “Then the problem will take more watching and waiting, I’m afraid”…and the next thing I know she’s gone and they’re herding me out to my mum and telling us they’ll be in touch.’ Sota shrugged again, his expression clearing into a wry smile. ‘They never got in touch, naturally. And even if they had? I would’ve been at the hospital. So…I guess I wasn’t what they were looking for.’

Shoma felt cold; something that went beyond the chill of the breeze through his hair or the roar of the ocean, something that was cold inside, rattling at his bones and seizing his ribcage. He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat and keep his breathing even, digging his nails into his palm with such force he winced at the pain. He closed his eyes, just for a second, and focused in; he recalled Yuzuru’s calm voice, telling him to listen only to his own heartbeat and to remember to breathe – he pictured the haze of gold arching up over him and the feeling of lightning and allowed himself to feel the pull of thunderclouds somewhere off in the far distance. When he opened his eyes the world felt slightly less like it was on its side, and Sota was looking at him somewhat worriedly. He forced a smile at him, pulling a face and looking down at the ground.  
‘Sorry, it’s just…’ He shook his head. ‘Like I said – I don’t trust them, you know?’ he mumbled into his jacket, tucking his chin inside its collar in an effort to feel just a little warmer. What he didn’t say was the phrase that kept rolling through his mind: _it should’ve been me_. ‘I kind of remember you going, you know? But…I just thought it was some research place. And I never…I never realised it was right before your power…’ Shoma grimaced and Sota rolled his eyes.  
‘You can say it, you know: right before I lost my power and turned into a total disaster area.’ Shoma shot him a glare, reaching out to smack his arm.  
‘You weren’t a disaster area. You just…couldn’t use your power anymore. I didn’t care…I only cared that you cared. And that it was hurting you,’ he said, soft and sincere, and Sota offered him a small, grateful smile.  
‘You’re a good friend, Shoma – don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Please, I’m the worst.’ He tucked his chin back into his jacket with a huff. ‘I’ve never even asked you about this stuff before…I just…didn’t want to bother you with it, I guess. I mean…you’re not just this one thing that happened to you, right? You’re still you. It doesn’t take away the things you’re capable of, the things you’ve done and the friendships you’ve made – and as long as you’re still trying to work on it, there’s always a chance your powers will come back. So…why dwell on it? Why make it seem like it made any difference to who you are just because something crappy almost derailed you?’ Sota leant in, pressing his weight on him just a little more than was necessary in a quiet show of affection.  
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, and Shoma shrugged, looking up at him with a gentle, lopsided smile.  
‘It’s just the truth.’ Sota laughed.  
‘Everything is always this way with you: you see with such clarity, as long as it’s not your own worries you’re trying to pick at.’ He sighed then, looking down at his shoes and pulling a face. ‘Maybe the clue was in my power mark all along, huh?’  
‘What?’ Shoma frowned, and Sota offered him a quiet, tired smile.  
‘You remember, right?’ He quirked an eyebrow. ‘My power mark is a butterfly – people always say that means transformation. And I guess…my power transformed…just…not how anyone expected it to.’ Shoma blinked a couple of times before his brow furrowed and he elbowed Sota reproachfully.  
‘Yeah, but…a butterfly, that’s got to be a transformation into something beautiful…something magical, right? Who’s to say the transformation’s over, huh? Maybe you’re just…going through it.’ Sota’s whole expression lifted, his eyes suddenly bright as he leant into Shoma’s side again, and Shoma smiled up at him, nudging him back.

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, leaning against each other with the comfort of friends who had known each other too long to feel the need to push off heavy moods or find words for things that didn’t need to be spoken.  
‘You know…my power mark never came back? Not properly,’ Sota said suddenly into the peace, and Shoma shot him a confused look.  
‘Huh?’ Sota grimaced.  
‘Did I never tell you about that?’ he asked, biting his lip guiltily. ‘Oops.’ He laughed self-consciously, rolling his eyes. ‘I was…embarrassed about it in the beginning, I guess,’ he sighed. ‘No one really knows what came first – if the headaches made my power play up or if my power playing up caused the headaches. But…the first thing the doctors _did_ notice? My power mark had…faded. Here, look.’ Sota pulled up his sleeve, twisting his arm to where Shoma remembered his small, gold-lined butterfly had always been – only now, in its place, were only faded hints of gold, edged into by dusty silver. And in amidst the silver, Sota’s power mark had filled its shape in, a rich black so dark it almost seemed to disappear into nothingness, covering one half of the butterfly’s wings. Shoma let out a small, faint gasp, staring down at the curious abyss that had leeched into his friend’s skin and touching it tentatively with his fingers – he winced and drew his hand back immediately as he felt the cold, static buzz inside. It felt like the Grey Zone had felt – like breathing in dust and asphalt, like being baked by summer heat on a breezeless day. ‘Yeah,’ Sota sighed dryly, wrinkling his nose and rolling his sleeve back down. ‘I’ve almost got like you used to be with your power mark – always tugging down my sleeves and hoping people won’t insist on asking questions if they notice.’ Shoma smiled, sad and sympathetic, and Sota rolled his eyes in an attempt to dismiss the quietly bruised feeling Shoma knew he carried inside. ‘I get it now, you know – I never used to. I always thought “But a sun is such a cool mark” and put it down to how shy you are with people and how protective you’ve always been of your space. But…now…I understand more. When you have this mark right there, that looks so different and just screams out that there’s a story…people feel like they’re entitled to that story. It can be pretty overwhelming. Especially if it’s something you don’t want to talk about. Which…your power never has been.’ Shoma winced, drawing in a deep breath.  
‘It’s not just that,’ he murmured. He pursed his lips and risked a glance up at Sota, who simply looked at him with a kind, calm expression, patient as ever. Shoma squirmed slightly, pulling at his sleeves uncomfortably. ‘My power mark…it bugged me because it meant questions. And questions bugged me because…my power? It…does more than it should,’ he admitted in a thin, strained voice, his eyes not quite meeting Sota’s as he spoke.  
‘Yeah…I know.’ Sota frowned. ‘You find it hard to control,’ he shrugged, and Shoma couldn’t help but let out a soft, humourless laugh, shaking his head and turning his eyes upwards.  
‘No: my power…has always done… _way_ more than it should.’  
‘Oh.’ Sota paused, blinking and taking a moment to consider the words. Then, with a slight start, he finally seemed to process what Shoma was telling him. ‘ _Oh_ ,’ he breathed, eyes widening just a little. ‘Wait so…so you…’ He closed his mouth and thought for a beat. ‘Oh.’ Shoma laughed, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and exasperation, and he sighed, wrapping his arms around himself protectively.  
‘Yeah.’ He pulled a face. ‘No one knows except Itsuki. My parents probably suspect.’ He bit his cheek, hesitating for a moment. ‘And then there’s…Yuzuru, of course.’  
‘Oh,’ Sota said again, wrinkling his nose as he realised the uselessness of the repetition with mild chagrin. ‘Sorry,’ he added, and Shoma smirked.  
‘It’s fine,’ he replied quietly, his smile turning lopsided as he looked away again. ‘What’s there to say?’ He lifted his arms from his sides in a vague approximation of a shrug, flicking his hair from his face with a sigh. ‘“Oh” probably…pretty much covers it.’ Sota knocked his elbow into his side and Shoma pulled a face. ‘I don’t like thinking about it, most of the time. I mean, Yuzu, he…he always knew it was in him and he actively chased after it, you know? Like some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. But…me? I always felt like it was just something…which was happening to me. Out of my control. Wrong. Like it didn’t fit. I used to think…I used to think it had to be a mistake, that it had to have been meant for someone else and I just ended up with it. And then your power went away and I…I felt awful. I had all this power I didn’t want…and you didn’t have the power you were so obviously meant for. I felt guilty. And useless, because I couldn’t use it properly and I couldn’t even heal you right. When I did use it I felt bad because it didn’t feel like it should be mine and…when I didn’t use it I felt worse because…maybe I wasn’t making the most of something other people would kill for. It drove me crazy. And I still wonder sometimes…how it can really be meant for me…when I’m just this mess who can’t keep it reined in without shutting it off completely…I mean…that can’t do any good for anyone, right?’ Shoma glanced at Sota, who offered him a small smile.  
‘Please tell me you know how wrong you are about that now, Sho,’ he said, gentle and achingly earnest. ‘Please tell me somehow you’ve finally figured out there is probably no one on Earth so stupidly _perfect_ for trusting with that kind of power? Someone with a good heart and good instincts? And the strength of steel inside? Trust me: that power is meant for you. And…maybe I should be shocked right now, or surprised or…something. But I’m not. Because you are power and goodness in human form – of course you should carry something like this…who could be better for that role than someone so determined and so true? Someone so clear-headed? And some part of you must know that, right?’ Shoma looked down, biting at his lip and shaking his head slightly.  
‘I don’t know,’ he whispered. ‘For a second, at the Foundation…when I was using my power with Yuzu…and it just fit so well…’ He swallowed down the crack in his voice and closed his eyes. ‘For a second I thought I understood. I thought that person I’d only ever been in these tiny moments before…could actually just be me. My skin finally fit me, and my power actually…belonged. But now…’ Sota jabbed an elbow in his side and Shoma looked up at him immediately.  
‘Shoma,’ Sota said, sympathetic and frustrated at once. ‘I know that must have been…frightening, after a lifetime of convincing yourself that wasn’t who you are. But…please tell me you’re not seriously talking yourself out of using your power just because some small part of you still doesn’t trust in it?’ Sota widened his eyes at Shoma pointedly. ‘Sho – your power mark _is the sun_! Isn’t that, like…the universe trying to tell you something? Didn’t anyone at the Foundation notice that and maybe try to convince you it was a sign?’ Shoma let out a small, overwhelmed laugh, tipping his head back with a slight groan.  
‘Yeah,’ he admitted, a traitorous smile forming instantly on his lips. He tried to keep it back, but he found it impossible, the effort too much and not worth making when Sota would see through him anyway. ‘Yuzuru did.’ He whispered it like he could summon him with the words. Like they could conjure the memory of that night in the courtyard onto the surface of the ocean, allowing him to reach in and pull Yuzuru out before the two of them could start whatever it was they started as Yuzuru’s fingers danced across the gold lines at his wrist. ‘He talks about the sun and everything it means…and he turns it into a spell. He loves to talk about sunrise and constants…and he looks at me like he sees it in me. He tries so hard to make me believe it’s more than just some gold lines on skin.’ Sota’s eyebrows raised just a little.  
‘Wait…so…you actually showed him you power mark? The one you spent all of high school trying to hide?’ he asked, sounding genuinely surprised, and Shoma’s expression turned wistful and quiet as he shrugged somewhat shyly.  
‘Yeah, well…like I said: once he sets his mind to something…’  
‘Interesting…and…he set his mind to you, huh?’ Sota said thoughtfully, quirking an eyebrow and looking Shoma up and down with sparkling eyes. Shoma avoided the gaze, quickly drawing himself back in and turning his eyes out towards the sea. ‘Ok, hint taken,’ Sota nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets with a light hum. ‘But still…interesting.’ Shoma let out a long, slow breath, feeling his willpower crumbling slightly in the face of Sota’s kind acceptance.  
‘It’s not like…I mean I…I didn’t _show_ him. He saw. And when he starts talking…’ Shoma closed his eyes again, fighting another smile and knowing his voice betrayed him. ‘He makes everything sound possible. He makes everything feel…right. Like I’m actually exactly who I’m meant to be and…maybe my power makes sense after all.’  
‘Wow,’ Sota whispered, letting out a small, low whistle, and Shoma laughed despite himself, feeling the blush in his cheeks but not really minding for once.  
‘Yeah.’ Sota’s eyes twinkled but he didn’t pass comment.

Shoma looked up at Sota expectantly, mildly amused by the expression on his face – he was too kind, too understanding of a friend to force Shoma to talk about it, to drag the answers from him, but he was also only human, and there was a barely-contained curiosity in his eyes that made Shoma laugh slightly. He rolled his eyes and bumped their shoulders together. ‘Whatever you want to ask just…ask,’ he sighed. Sota just about managed to hide the curl of his lips and Shoma smirked.  
‘It’s nothing…I just…’ Sota huffed. ‘I’m not judging, ok, but…you talk about him pretty fondly for someone you’re trying to make out like you don’t want to talk about at all, you know?’ he said slowly, raising his eyebrows at Shoma expectantly. Shoma looked away, trying to keep his expression neutral and hoping Sota couldn’t see the immense wound of emotion he was carrying inside. ‘Sho…is Yuzuru something to do with why you left the Foundation?’ Sota asked, careful and slow, and Shoma closed his eyes, the gentleness in his voice almost too much to take.  
‘No,’ he whispered, scrunching his face up in a wince. ‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘Like I said before: it’s just…complicated.’  
‘So…do you think you could try and make it less complicated? For me?’ Sota raised his eyebrows, gently inquisitive but still somehow undemanding, allowing Shoma some small space to breathe in.

Shoma took a moment to think, his gaze on the horizon and the distant thrum of thunder briefly louder in his ears, as though Yuzuru knew he was being talked about, even across an ocean.  
‘Yuzu was…a part of it. Maybe. Because…he is _so much_ and…he was starting to mean too much…starting to become someone important to me before I’d even decided he should be. Someone I was starting to…not need around me, but want around me. All the time.’ Shoma shook his head, the action a little too frantic as he tried to somehow shake the emotion away with it. ‘Then on top of that, being at the Foundation…was almost too easy sometimes too, if that makes sense? It was like I fit too quickly. It wasn’t…like me. Especially not in a place like that – where there’s always people around and I’m supposed to be using my power almost all the time? It made no sense. It should’ve been hell…but most of the time? I felt…right, there. I felt like I belonged and like…maybe there was something in me after all, maybe my power wasn’t so big of a mess. But it came too quickly, before I’d even noticed it happening. And the next thing I know I’m part of their plans…and there’s press and expectations and all these eyes. Everything was pushing forwards, and I just…wasn’t sure I was moving with it. All this noise was coming in before I could even make sense of what it meant, and I wasn’t sure if I was even standing on my own anymore…or if I was just letting it carry me. If I was letting the story I was writing for my life get overtaken by this bigger, fiercer narrative that wasn’t really about me at all.’ Shoma drew in a shuddery breath. ‘And Yuzu…’ It was an ache to say his name and an even greater ache to remember the part Yuzuru had played in his decision to leave. He let himself feel it – leaned into the weight of it and let the pressure sink in. He remembered the way his body had moved towards Yuzuru’s every time they kissed, like it knew him and knew how it fitted to him, like his gravity was meant for him all along. He remembered his power mark coming alive beneath his touch and his mind going quiet enough for him to know himself with fierce certainty the moment Yuzuru’s warmth drew near. ‘He makes me feel like I’m the most myself I could possibly be – like every dumb contradiction and messy detail is ok, like it fits and…like it’s safe to just…let it be. He makes me the person I want to be – makes it easier to be that person every time he’s around. But I want to be that person for myself…I want to know that’s who I am, not who he makes me. Because…one day? He’s probably not going to be around to make me feel that way. And I don’t want to lose myself the day I lose him…because…losing him will be…the limit of what I can take as it is. Losing me too? What…what would I even have left? That doesn’t seem worth it over a kiss. Or…several kisses, I guess. I mean…good kisses but…that shouldn’t be how you decide what to do with your life, you know?’

Sota was quiet for a while, understanding and still by Shoma’s side; Shoma kept his eyes closed and concentrated on breathing as deeply as he could. The sound of the ocean was soothing and wild, the cold wind and the empty beach strangely protective, cutting him and Sota off from the world and their opinions, their judging eyes and misunderstandings. It was just the two of them – Shoma’s doubts now spoken out into the breeze, somehow lighter now they weren’t being locked up so tightly inside. When Shoma finally opened his eyes again, Sota pressed a kind, light hand against his back, rubbing it just slightly.  
‘I get it, Sho,’ he said, simple and firm, and there was relief in the certainty in his voice, something comforting about the fact he had heard the tangled mess of Shoma’s thoughts and not turned around and told him he was crazy, or worse, that he was just outright wrong. ‘I know how determined you’ve always been to make your own choices – to see the road ahead with your own eyes and stand on your own to face it. You are so intent about always being strong, even when you’re not sure how to be – but it makes you hard on yourself, because your standard is set so high. You are so dogged about writing the best story you can, without any messy chapters or forgotten first drafts, with no words you haven’t chosen for yourself. So you keep people at arm’s length – because you know that once you care, it will inevitably become something big, something too big, maybe, for you to control…which means it becomes something which could overwhelm you one day. Something that could maybe come to cause you enough pain to change your story forever, without you getting any say.’ Sota sighed. ‘And sure – it’s true that we are all shaped by our mistakes…and by the mistakes of others who we have allowed close enough to inflict those wounds. We can have our story’s course changed by heartache and trouble and other people’s carelessness – small things which leave scars twice their size, moments we wish we could redo or get back. But if these throwaway things and bad memories can cause enough feeling for the wound to last a lifetime…then who is to say the good feelings can’t leave their marks too? Who’s to say they’re not ultimately going to be the deciding factor? Our lives can be shaped by our favourite stories, the memory of a night we laughed with a friend about nothing at all, that one song we played on repeat for a month and the hugs our parents gave us after we got our exam results. Our understanding of who we are, what we want…can be shaped not by the person themselves, but maybe by the sense of safety they gave us – the peace being around them provided, just for a moment, for us to see clearly. A peace that lasts beyond the moment or the person who caused it, that lives in our memory forever, to remind us of everything that got us to where we are and why.’ Sota shrugged. ‘Sometimes, the big decisions? They can’t be taken alone, Sho. Because every choice we make, whether we realise it or not, is going to be based, on some level, on the million moments that have gone before. There are letters which never get sent, secrets we wish we could’ve shared, people whose goodbyes or apologies or thank yous we long for but never receive. There are stories without endings, disjointed poems…first lines we never even get to write. Hellos we never say. Our lives are built on flukes and hopes and second chances, and they’re held together by threads – tenuous, tangled and complicated. But some of those threads hold and last and run through everything – some smiles keep us together when we think we’re falling apart, some knots of friendship never come undone, the strands looping right over, those people always coming back and showing up…never forgotten, never truly lost because the ties they left behind are still there, even when that person can’t be any longer. Treasure that – even when it doesn’t seem to solve everything as logically as you might want. Have a little faith in those threads and trust they’ll catch you. So what if maybe the pain got in there somewhere along the way? It happens. But the good stuff is wrapped up in there too. The best stuff. Let that affect your decisions more than the memory of the times it went wrong – call it revenge if you have to, because you survived to make your story more than what those awful times could have turned them into. Screw them, they didn’t win – because _the good stuff happened too_. Don’t dismiss that so easily. Don’t dismiss any of those positive feelings too quickly. I mean…you can be the person you are when you’re with Yuzuru – because you _are_ that person, Sho. He doesn’t create it, he just makes it easier – he makes you feel safe enough to risk feeling it. To risk feeling all the things you usually shut out. He’s seen everything there is in you and he’s still been there…that takes away the risk of stepping outside of your walls, you know? Someone you value didn’t run from who you are, so why should anyone else – why should it matter if they do? Those people clearly aren’t worth the worry when you’ve known one of the good ones like Yuzuru. And sure, you’re right – one day? He might not be there. But why make that day come sooner than it has to? It doesn’t make it less painful just because it’s the pain you chose, Sho – so you might as well make the most of it…and choose the good whilst you know you can.’

When Sota fell quiet, there was a peace that came over them that was anything but light, but it felt simple somehow – calming, in a strange way. There was nothing but the two of them and the sound of the ocean again, the rest of the world unimportant and the future some distant, unreachable thing; a stop in time that didn’t need Shoma’s power to make it happen. Sota knew Shoma too well to say any more – to press anymore weight of words down on top of him – and instead he simply leant in quietly to give his arm a squeeze. ‘Come on. Let’s get food before you turn demon on me, huh?’ he offered softly, and Shoma sniffed, laughing wetly and letting his head loll in a tired, grateful nod as he took a moment to close his eyes and gather himself.  
‘Yeah…food sounds…good,’ he murmured, and Sota gave his arm a understanding squeeze.  
‘Good. Then maybe food is where we start.’

It was still relatively early by the time Shoma made it home, but the sky was a heavy shade of grey that made it feel like the day was closing in on itself, dim sunlight lining the edges of the buildings in hazy yellows and a dreamlike coolness filling the air. He had turned his music up just loud enough to stop him really being able to think during his long journey back, and he’d stared resolutely at the scenery as it passed the train window, counting off the number of stops still left in his head – there was still a part of him which kept looking over his shoulder, but no eyes seemed to be watching him, and if the people on public transport recognised him from the newspapers, then they were kind enough not to let it show on their faces. He didn’t arrive home feeling hunted or frantic or thready, just pleasantly exhausted and ready to sprawl out on his bed and game for a while – he felt strong enough to keep his thoughts at bay for a little longer, heartened by the warm, buzzing peace of his time with Sota and still feeling somewhat golden-edged after listening to Yuzuru’s calm voice the previous night.

The house was quiet and still when he got in, lit in strange pale blues and greys by the turning light outside. Shoma slipped his headphones off and wandered idly into the kitchen, grabbing himself a drink and downing it too quickly before heading for his room, assuming he was home alone once more and had no duty to fill anyone in on his day or let them know he was back safely. He was barely concentrating on what he was doing, his mind half-off in a daydream, as he made his way out of the kitchen, and it came as a shock, therefore, when Itsuki appeared out of the half-light, launching himself towards him from around the corner before he’d even really processed what was happening, his heart hitting the walls of his chest in alarm.  
‘Shoma! You’re home!’ Itsuki said with unexpected force as he thumped into him, his arms flinging around him in an incredibly fierce hug, and Shoma let out a low, bruised huff from his lungs as he blinked bewilderedly over his brother’s shoulder. ‘Thank God. I tried to call you but your phone was off…and I was so worried I almost called Mum and Dad instead, but then I told myself I was being dumb and held off, but I just…had this really bad feeling and I didn’t know what to do about it.’ Itsuki’s words were coming out too quickly, and Shoma frowned, squirming slightly against the hug in order to lean back and look into Itsuki’s face with concern, his dark eyes roaming his brother’s features. He reached out to put his hands on Itsuki’s shoulders, bracing him slightly and holding him in place; despite his brother’s height advantage, all the strength was his in that moment, and Itsuki, troublingly, seemed to have no issue with Shoma taking his weight, his eyes still wide and anxious in the pale shadows as he let himself lean into Shoma’s firmness with a sort of dazed relief.  
‘Itsuki, you need to talk more slowly: what’s wrong?’ Shoma asked, slow and careful and kind, something unsettling him about the rawness of the worry he saw in his brother’s features, but a determination in him to be there for his younger brother with the sureness he clearly needed in that moment. ‘Why were you trying to call? What happened?’ Itsuki swallowed.  
‘I don’t…really know…’ he admitted, wincing slightly and looking faintly embarrassed for the briefest of moments. ‘I mean I don’t…I know what happened but…I don’t know what was…really happening…’ He pulled a face. ‘I’m not making any sense,’ he whined, and Shoma shot him a soft, wry smile.  
‘Oh, you think?’ he remarked, his eyes still studying Itsuki’s face with gentle concern.  
‘Sorry, I just…I’ve been sitting here for over an hour wondering if I was doing the right thing…and then I heard the door and I knew it was you and I was so relieved and…’ Itsuki shook his head and scrunched his face up, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again he seemed more like himself, and Shoma raised his eyebrows expectantly as he met his gaze.  
‘Ok?’ he asked, tender and soft, and Itsuki gave a nod, blowing out a breath and squaring his shoulders.  
‘Yeah, it’s just…Shoma, people came here today. _Looking for you_.’

Shoma felt a shiver run through his whole body; there was something cold and still right in the centre of him, something so deep and vast it momentarily seemed to take over his ability to sense, the familiar dance of Itsuki’s energy and the dull, distant ache of Yuzuru’s thunder dissipating briefly and being replaced by a dark, all-consuming emptiness. He tried to swallow but his throat was dry.  
‘Who?’ he croaked, though a part of him was certain he already knew what Itsuki was going to say.  
‘They said they were from the Alliance,’ Itsuki said softly, glancing down at the floor with a slight grimace, his expression clouded. ‘I was the only one home and I wasn’t sure what I should do, how to get rid of them. Mum was always the one who dealt with that stuff, you know?’ He shook his head slightly and looked back up at Shoma with wide eyes. ‘And Sho…they were so pushy. I tried to close the door and the guy stuck his foot in the way so I couldn’t. I thought he was going to try and come inside or something, it was awful.’ Shoma winced, automatically moving to wrap Itsuki into a firm hug – he felt terrible, guilty that his power was hurting someone he cared about in ways he had no means of preventing and no real understanding of.  
‘I’m so sorry,’ he mumbled, and Itsuki gave him a firm squeeze.  
‘Shut up, as if it’s your fault,’ he said, his voice a ridiculous mix childish sulk and protective fierceness that made Shoma let out a soft, fond laugh. ‘It’s not your problem that everyone other than the Foundation goes around being jerks just because you have a power they want,’ Itsuki insisted and Shoma pulled a face, leaning back.  
‘They make it my problem when they come here and freak out my un-freak-outable little brother,’ he said quietly, and Itsuki rolled his eyes in an attempt at dismissal that didn’t convince.  
‘It’s still not your fault,’ he mumbled, looking back at Shoma with a wobbly smile. ‘Besides, I handled it, right? I didn’t freak out until, like…at least ten seconds after I closed the door on them,’ he added with a shrug, and Shoma laughed despite himself, the sound somewhat strangled as he looked up into Itsuki’s face with a gentle, resigned smile.  
‘Mum would be proud,’ he said, his tone dry but his eyes shining with something altogether more genuine, and Itsuki’s lips twitched up at one corner, something close to a blush briefly rising in his cheeks. Shoma blew out a steadying breath. ‘Were they trying to get me to join them again or did they just say they were looking for me?’ Itsuki wrinkled his nose.  
‘Both? Kind of?’ He shook his head. ‘It was weird, honestly – it was like they weren’t even that bothered you weren’t here, like they were happy, almost, to just…ask me all of their questions instead.’  
‘What kinds of questions?’ Shoma frowned. Itsuki shrugged.  
‘At first it was what you’d expect, I guess, you know? Were you home, when would you be back, was I the only one here…but then they started asking if you were happy with your role at the Foundation, if I knew how long you were going to be home for, what your long term plans were. They wanted to know stuff about what Brian had told you before you left and if you left on good terms…what you were doing back here so suddenly and if you were looking for a way to end your Foundation ties permanently.’ Itsuki shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip and glancing away. ‘Then they started asking all these leading questions…’ Shoma tensed.  
‘Leading questions about what?’ Itsuki squirmed and Shoma held him by his arms, dipping his head to try and meet his gaze. ‘Please, Itsuki – I need to know.’ Itsuki let out a long, heavy sigh.  
‘They were trying to get…I don’t know…something out of me to do with Yuzuru. But…I don’t really know what…exactly.’ He pulled a face. ‘That sounds so dumb but I just…they were asking all these half-questions, you know? Like there was something they were trying to get at but they didn’t want to risk giving too much away about why they needed to know? They wanted to know if he’d been in touch since you came back. And they were definitely trying to figure out if the stuff about you fighting was true. But…there was something else they were going after but I just…couldn’t work it out. Like they wanted to know if you guys were friends or…maybe if it was about power somehow? I don’t know, Sho, I was just…really scared, ok? I know it’s so stupid, but…they wouldn’t go away. I mean, they were speaking in English, so maybe I lost whatever they were getting at somewhere along the way but-’ Shoma cut him off by smacking lightly at his shoulder, a frown knitting his features.  
‘Hey – it’s not stupid, ok? You could never be stupid to not like your space being invaded.’ He paused then, his frown deepening. ‘Wait…they were speaking in English?’ he asked, his voice small and tense, and Itsuki cast him a curious look.  
‘Yeah, why?’ Shoma swallowed hard.  
‘Itsuki…the people who came…was it a man and a woman?’ Itsuki nodded uncertainly.  
‘Yeah.’ Shoma’s skin prickled and he closed his eyes, tipping his head back for a moment. ‘Sho, you’re scaring me – what’s going on?’  
‘I wish I knew,’ Shoma whispered. ‘Let me guess: grey suit and a navy coat, right?’ He arched an eyebrow at Itsuki, whose eyes widened a little.  
‘Grey suit, all business and greying hair…navy coat, all the warmth of a hungry crocodile and eyes like glass?’ Shoma grimaced, nodding slowly.  
‘They’re the guys from the park,’ he murmured. ‘So they were from the Alliance…and they’re…watching me.’ He was starting to become strangely numb to the fear, to the confusion and the apparently endless supply of information the universe had for him no matter how many times he tried to shut it out or hold it back. He just felt tired. And he missed Yuzuru more than ever – for one, brief moment, he missed Yuzuru with such totality it almost didn’t hurt, because it was too much of a part of him, a character flaw he simply lived with and moved through.  
‘I didn’t tell them anything, Sho,’ Itsuki said, breaking the moment, and Shoma blinked at him, slowly coming back to himself and refocusing. Itsuki flashed him a small, almost mischievous smile. ‘I was being so vague I thought the woman’s eyes were going to roll out of her head.’ He gave a one shouldered shrug, eyes briefly glinting. ‘And I might have given the impression my English was really bad too,’ he added then, and Shoma let out a gentle laugh, a smile curving his lips despite himself.  
‘You’re pretty smart for a brat, you know that?’ Itsuki grinned, smacking his arm lightly.  
‘Shut up – I’m basically a genius and I probably saved your dumb ass from…actually, what did I save your dumb ass from, exactly?’ Itsuki tilted his head in genuine curiosity, and Shoma twisted his lips to one side, his expression somewhere between amusement and unease. ‘Seriously…I know you said Yuzuru and Brian had linked the Alliance back to the Grey Zones somehow but…what do they want with you, Sho? And why are they basically stalking you to get it?’ Shoma sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.  
‘I don’t know but…my best guess? They know about my power somehow…or at least…they know it’s stronger than it should be.’ He shrugged somewhat helplessly. ‘Maybe they went looking for a Yuzu of their own and they…stumbled on me somehow. If they have some kind of idea that maybe I’m another…you know…anomaly? There’s no way they’d want the Foundation having both of us.’  
‘But then why didn’t they stop you before you left the first time?’  
‘Because they weren’t sure, maybe? I mean…no one had ever put mine and Yuzu’s powers together before…and there’s no way they were sure about my power either, because Mum never let them get close enough to test the theory.’ Shoma chewed at the inside of his cheek, shaking his head slightly. ‘That must have been what they were trying to do in Malaysia; confirm it was me they were after…trick Yuzu and me into using our powers together so they could get some idea of whether they could risk us being in the same place or not.’  
‘And then invite Yuzu to visit them because…what? They wanted to get your powers away from each other?’  
‘Maybe.’ Shoma winced. ‘But I guess I did that for them. And now they’re probably thinking it’s the break they need: no one has ever left the Foundation’s front line to go to another organisation before, no one with power…no one from the press tours…no one who could…’ He trailed off, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. Itsuki reached out to squeeze his arm.  
‘No one who could go up against the mighty Yuzuru Hanyu,’ he finished for him, his voice gentle and sad, and Shoma nodded slowly.  
‘Yeah. That.’

Shoma tipped his head back and took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions at bay. He wanted to cry, but he also wanted to scream – he wanted to hide in his room for a month not speaking to anyone, but at the same time, he felt more ready to fight than he had ever felt before in his life. It was the level of emotion that usually sent him into overload and shut him down, but there was too much adrenaline flooding his system for shutting down to be an option. ‘But…they already have Yuzu coming to their stupid press tour. And they already know I’m not at the Foundation anymore, even if they don’t know how long for. So why are they pushing so hard? Why are they doing all of this now? There’s no need.’  
‘Unless they have something planned,’ Itsuki said softly, something reluctant in his tone. ‘I mean…Sho, if they’re watching you, they’re probably trying to make sure you really don’t go back. They’re probably trying to make sure you and Yuzu don’t just turn out to still be working together somehow.’ Shoma’s heart stuttered in his chest as the realisation hit him – sharp and cold – and he ran a hand through his hair.  
‘Because then they can be sure whatever they have planned for Yuzu can happen…because he won’t have my power to back his up.’ He swallowed, closing his eyes and trying to breathe as slowly as he could. His skin felt clammy, and he ran his fingers through his fringe, suddenly desperate to get out, to climb outside of his own skin somehow. He looked up at Itsuki with heavy-lidded, shadowed eyes, and felt another wave of aching fear. ‘I’m just so glad you’re safe,’ he let out, tight and cracked, and instinctively he moved to wrap his brother into a fierce, protective hug, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt Itsuki close his arms around him in return. ‘I hate that they thought they could trick you, but I’m so proud of you for being smart enough to trick them back, you know?’ he mumbled against his brother’s shoulder, and Itsuki gave him a firm squeeze. ‘I’m never going to let them hurt you, I promise. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.’  
‘Sho,’ Itsuki murmured, a rush of feeling and warmth behind the way he said it. ‘I’m just really glad you’re safe too, ok?’ He disentangled himself from the hug and shrugged awkwardly, his lips twitching into a lopsided smirk as he playfully shoved Shoma’s shoulder and rolled his eyes. ‘But just turn your phone on next time, would you?’ His expression quietened a little, his eyes turning down somewhat shyly. ‘You really worried me.’ Shoma smiled, knocking his shoulder back and meeting his eyes.  
‘I’m sorry, ok? It just…didn’t occur to me to think an international organisation would be hunting me down today, I guess.’ He let out a long breath, allowing a little of the tension go out of his body and taking a moment to try and think clearly.

‘Sho, this is _big_ ,’ Itsuki whispered, a nervous edge still in his voice, and Shoma looked back at him with dark, caring eyes.  
‘I know,’ he said quietly, biting his lip. ‘But…you have to promise me something, ok?’ He raised his eyebrows at Itsuki, meeting his gaze with earnest determination. ‘You can’t tell Mum and Dad – but especially not Mum. Not about the park, not about today…not about any of this conversation, ok?’  
‘Why not, Sho?’ Itsuki all but yelped, and Shoma grabbed hold of his shoulders and looked at him steadily.  
‘Because if Mum heard about any of this? She would probably move us all to Mars and never let me talk to anyone from the Foundation ever again. Or worse: she’d go after the Alliance herself and have them chasing after her next. I don’t want any more drama because of me, Itsuki. And I don’t want them to think we’re even bothered by them either – because then they’ll know for sure about my power. And about me and Yuzu. Who knows how they’d play it then.’ Itsuki sighed, terse and heavy, like someone had let all the air out of him. He resisted for a moment, his expression shuttered and dark, then something in him slowly softened, and his body sagged a little as he frowned down into Shoma’s face with tired, worried eyes.  
‘Fine,’ he said guardedly. ‘But only because I don’t want to have to go to school on Monday with an armed guard, because…Mum probably would lose it if she knew they’d come after you _and_ me. And I don’t want her getting any ideas about the Foundation either…I want them to keep having your back, you know? I don’t want her shutting them out of your life because of this.’ Shoma’s lips twitched briefly into a broken smile.  
‘Thank you.’  
‘Just…please don’t make me regret it, ok? Don’t let them come for you just because you’re so determined they shouldn’t come for me.’

A strange, eerie silence fell over the two of them; they stood opposite each other, Itsuki’s hands grasping Shoma’s forearms as the light around them shifted, growing darker and heavier with every breath. A curious calm had settled over Shoma’s whole body, something taking over him and stopping him from folding under the weight of it all, but there was still an uneasiness eating at him, nagging him even in the silence. It was ridiculous, he supposed – what had felt like it was crushing him yesterday now seemed almost trivial, and yet here he was, beneath the weight of something vast and dangerous and all-encompassing, something dark and unknown and out of his control…and he was still standing, overtaken by a sense of steadiness in the face of all the pressure. He supposed this was the level Yuzuru functioned on: when the chaos grew so great, the pressure so immense, that there was no choice but to take the hits and keep staring dead ahead, no choice but to want the sunrise badly enough to wait for it through the darkest of nights. ‘Sho…what do we do? I mean…we can’t just ignore it, right? We have to tell someone?’ Itsuki said anxiously, his grip on Shoma’s arms tightening, and Shoma squeezed Itsuki’s arms back, his power ebbing ever so slightly out with the touch, the healing making Itsuki shiver just a little. ‘Do we call the number Yuzuru gave?’ he asked, his voice a little steadier beneath the familiar comfort of Shoma’s power, and Shoma shook his head.  
‘No. The Ministry don’t know enough about this…and we can’t be sure we can trust them anyway, not when the Alliance seem to be putting people everywhere.’ His expression turned pained, and he looked away, worrying at his bottom lip for a moment as he thought. ‘No one but Brian and Yuzu have the full picture about the Alliance right now.’ He sighed, looking back up at Itsuki with a dry smile. ‘And…no one at the Foundation knows about my power except…’  
‘Yuzu,’ Itsuki finished with an understanding nod. Shoma nodded too, slow and reluctant as he brought his hands up to his face. He rubbed his eyes, pushing his hair back from his forehead and looking up at the ceiling with a soft groan.  
‘When did my life become…so messed up?’ Itsuki laughed slightly, a little of the worry leaving his features as he pulled a face.  
‘Chaos is just drawn to you, I guess,’ he sighed. ‘So…when are you going to call Yuzu?’ Shoma grimaced, shrinking back from Itsuki guiltily.  
‘Do you think…you could call him for me?’ he asked carefully, and Itsuki’s face scrunched up in an almost comical mixture of outrage and concern.  
‘Sho-’  
‘Look, I…I’m not just…avoiding him because I want to stop missing him or…or whatever. I’m not even sure…that I want to stop missing him anymore, actually.’ Itsuki’s eyebrow quirked enquiringly and Shoma swallowed, looking down. ‘Not the point,’ he said quickly, risking a pleading glance at his brother, who rolled his eyes.  
‘Fine. Then what is the point?’  
‘If Yuzu talks to me right now…he’ll hear _everything_ in my voice and he’ll…he’ll know I’m scared and I’ll end up putting that on him. But he’s got enough to worry about for himself right now, you know? He leaves for the press tour today – and he needs to be looking over his shoulder, not over mine.’ Itsuki shot him a quiet, vaguely unimpressed look, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together in a thin, unreadable line. ‘Please, Itsuki. You were the one who spoke to them, anyway. You can give him a better idea of how much they might know than I can.’  
‘It’s a weak excuse and you know it,’ Itsuki sighed, rolling his eyes. ‘But…you’re my brother so I’m giving you a pass. You seriously owe me, though, ok?’  
‘Noted. I swear.’  
‘Fine. Go hide in the other room like a baby whilst I call your boyfriend for you then.’  
‘He’s not my boyfriend.’  
‘I’ll call him whatever I want to call him until you stop making me be your go-between, ok?’ Shoma laughed despite himself, rolling his eyes and smacking his brother’s shoulder.  
‘I should get you for that comment.’  
‘And I should make you talk to your own world-saving, super-power-having not-boyfriend, but I’m not going to. So…I guess we’re even, huh?’

Shoma curled up on the sofa, grabbing up the remote and turning the television on. He kept the volume off, staring unseeingly at the screen as he strained to try and make out the sound of Itsuki’s voice drifting in from the kitchen. His voice sounded rougher than usual, and although he was doing a good job of hiding it, Shoma knew he was still rattled, still holding in some of his panic and concern. He talked to Yuzuru differently to how he talked to Shoma’s other friends, his tone less polite somehow, something whiny and relaxed about the way his sentences cut off and wavered and dipped; he talked to Yuzuru like he talked to him, Shoma realised, and it made him smile slightly, small and sweet and desperately fond. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what was being said in the pauses, tried to figure out what Yuzuru’s laser-focus would see in the problem that Shoma had missed. The longer the conversation went on, the more Shoma heard Itsuki’s edginess become quieter, his voice gentling and calming as Yuzuru somehow worked that magic of his which was nothing to do with power. The conversation went on long enough that Shoma knew Yuzuru was probably putting off a hundred other things just to spend that extra time smoothing out Itsuki’s panic – it was one of those stupid kindnesses Yuzuru was so good at, the smallest gestures that gave away the biggest care, his heart, as always, too honest and too open. No matter how much the outside pulled at him, no matter the pressure of the noise, self-preservation was never Yuzuru’s first instinct – and yet somehow he always made it out still standing, his heart held together with nothing but hope and Sellotape, yet somehow still beating. And in contrast, here Shoma was; he had made a choice to go before he got left behind, a choice to get out in one piece, no matter the cost. Self-preservation wasn’t enough justification for Shoma anymore – but it was all he had ever known, and trying to figure out how to make choices he could stand by without the certainty his sense of the practical had always given him was almost more terrifying than the threat of the Alliance landing at his door.

Shoma was too lost in his thoughts to notice everything falling silent in the kitchen, and it took him by surprise when he felt Itsuki flop down onto the sofa beside him, deliberately landing too close so that the two of them were squashed together, Itsuki’s weight against Shoma’s chest. ‘Next time I hear someone saying anything bad about him at school? I’m rioting.’ Shoma laughed softly, nudging Itsuki in the back so he shifted slightly, freeing Shoma’s trapped limbs and allowing him to wrap his arms protectively around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. ‘He was ready to raise hell for me before I’d even told him what was going on – before I’d even told him it had anything to do with you.’ Itsuki shrugged, making Shoma’s head bob with the motion, and he brought his hands up to grab Shoma’s arms, sinking more into the hug and closing his eyes. ‘When I told him what happened he did that thing he did at the press conference – you know, when his whole being is suddenly fire and it’s terrifying to imagine being on the wrong side of it?’ Shoma smirked.  
‘Of course he did,’ he said quietly, rolling his eyes fondly. ‘So what did he say?’ Itsuki sighed again, tipping his head back so he could look up into Shoma’s face.  
‘He’s going to annoy the hell out of people in high places,’ he said, eyes twinkling with vague amusement and his lips quirking up at one corner. ‘I mean, I’m paraphrasing, but…that was the general idea I think. He agreed with you about the ministry not being trustworthy, so he’s going to tell them you’re having problems from the press…I mean, it’s not that far-fetched, right? There were more stories today…negative, mostly, calling you out for leaving. He thinks it’s believable that they’d come here looking to stir things up and get better pictures. He’s going to tell the Foundation’s Tokyo office the same thing. Between them they’ll come up with some sort of security plan and send people here – and until that happens? He says you shouldn’t be alone, just in case; he reckons the Alliance’s main aim is to try to figure out what your status with him and the Foundation is so they can plan their next move, not to actively make a grab for you, but to be safe he wants you either in public places or home with someone, because there’s no way they’d risk the bad press of making a scene.’ Shoma drew in a somewhat shaky breath, and Itsuki gave his arms a comforting squeeze. ‘He had so much faith in you to handle it, Sho; he just knew, without question, that you’d not let them get you. He said you were too stubborn for that.’ A brief, fractured smile touched Shoma’s lips, and he hid it behind Itsuki’s shoulder.  
‘He actually still believes in me? Even after I backed out on him when it counted most?’  
‘Hey – is that you talking or those dumb people in the papers, huh?’ Itsuki shot back, jabbing an elbow into Shoma’s stomach. ‘You’re not lazy or dumb or less good than everyone else at the Foundation just because you do things your own way – and you can’t help that there was so much hype around you in Singapore, that was out of your control. You didn’t let anyone down, Sho. You just did what you had to do. And…you know, if freaking _Yuzuru Hanyu_ admires you and has faith in you? Then you’re probably doing _something_ right.’ Itsuki huffed, nudging at Shoma until he lifted his head before sliding down to tuck himself under his chin. ‘He believes in me too, actually, so, I think the Uno brothers are all set to take over the world, honestly.’ Shoma laughed, tipping his head to try and get a better look at Itsuki’s face, quirking an eyebrow at him in enquiry.  
‘What are you talking about?’ Itsuki’s smile turned lopsided and roguish, but there was something softer about the way his eyes shone.  
‘He was just really kind to me, that’s all,’ he dismissed, his voice gentle and low. ‘He said it didn’t mean anything, them thinking I’d be the weak link…he said everyone always thinks the baby brother is going to be the weak link, but that they’re wrong…because baby brothers have had to fight for exclusive rights to be the only ones allowed to torture their siblings and they’re not giving it up for anyone.’ Shoma suppressed a smile, nodding slowly.  
‘Sometimes I forget he’s the baby of his family.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Urgh, this means I’ve been actively siding with the enemy,’ he added with a joking groan, and Itsuki laughed, jabbing an elbow into his stomach again and looking up at him with sparkling eyes. ‘No wonder you get along with him, huh?’ Itsuki shrugged, mischief suddenly lighting his whole face up.  
‘Not to brag, but he froze the airport for me…’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘Wait…what?!’ Itsuki grinned.  
‘He was about to get on his flight for the press tour when I called. Halfway through they announced boarding, and Brian was asking him what was keeping him…and he said “Give me a second” and he clicked his fingers and…stopped the entire airport, like it was nothing.’ His expression dimmed just a little then, and he looked down, pursing his lips for a beat. ‘He said he wasn’t going to hang up until he knew I was ok with everything. And he said not to let them get into my head just because they thought they could trick me – because…they didn’t, and now thanks to me he knows to be on his guard and so do you. He said I was clever and quick and just as stubborn as you are, and if he didn’t believe that, then why would he be trusting me with all these secrets. I said he was trusting me because you trusted me and he said “No. I trust you for who you are, not who your family is – the same way I trust your brother for who he is, not what his powers are” and then he just kind of…rolled his eyes and started asking me about my homework…like we’d just been talking about the weather or something and not…you know…creepy stalkers and the future of the world.’ Shoma’s smile was small and gentle, his eyelids heavy and a weight of warmth in his chest – he closed his eyes for a beat and hoped Yuzuru felt the gratitude in his sunlight, just for a second. He squeezed Itsuki tightly, protective and immeasurably fond, and Itsuki leant into it with a smile.  
‘I don’t care if he did it for me, for you or just because it’s who he is…I’m just…really glad he did that,’ Shoma murmured. ‘You’re the bravest, smartest person I know, ok? And no one is taking that from you – especially not because of me.’ The very corner of Itsuki’s lips twitched up.  
‘Stop being soft with me,’ he mumbled shyly, looking down and hiding his face behind his hair. ‘You’re as bad as Yuzu, you know that?’  
‘You know that’s a compliment, right?’ Shoma pointed out and Itsuki laughed.  
‘Yeah…I think maybe that’s the point.’

The house was quieter than usual, the atmosphere still and heavy as it settled in around them, but Shoma felt a curious kind of contentment all the same – there was something safe and reassuring about sitting crushed together with Itsuki on the sofa, as though his need to be strong for him reminded him of the strength he was truly capable of and lifted his fears. Itsuki had faith in him. Sota had faith in him. Yuzuru had faith in him. All that faith had to be for a reason, and, if nothing else, he would be doing them a disservice if he continued to ignore that. He would be doing himself a disservice too. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve that kind of faith. Itsuki and Sota had both been hurt because of choices he had made, after all. And Yuzuru…  
‘Did I play into their hands?’ Shoma asked quietly, and Itsuki frowned, lifting his head slowly and leaning back to look up into Shoma’s face.  
‘Huh?’  
‘The Alliance.’ Shoma took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut. ‘Did I play into their hands by caving? By just…leaving the Foundation? By not putting up more of a fight for Yuzu not to do their stupid press tour and…giving them the exact opening they wanted in having our powers be apart?’  
‘Shoma,’ Itsuki said, weary and full of feeling as he squeezed Shoma’s arms fiercely. ‘You did what you felt you had to do to survive, ok? That doesn’t play into anyone’s hands other than yours. Not unless you let it. Which me and Yuzu…and most importantly _you_? All know you won’t.’ He let out a sigh, his expression turning thoughtful then. ‘And honestly? I don’t think your powers know how to be apart now they’ve found each other. I think they’re all tangled up and knotted together and you can’t undo those ties even if you try. Distance, timing, even the Alliance can all try and cut that…but they won’t succeed. It’s too strong. You two are too strong. In your own rights but…also in the connection you both made happen, you know? The friendship you built together – that’s its own kind of magic, Sho. The way you just get each other? It’s a power they probably don’t even know about…and it makes your other powers stronger, I think.’ He looked up into Shoma’s face again, eyes sparkling and lips curving gently. ‘Neither one of you is ever really alone now – there’s light at his back and there’s thunder at yours. And maybe it feels complicated to you, because of everything else that’s happened between you two. But that part? That fundamental understanding? It is so simple, Sho. You can trust in it. And take whatever strength from it you need when you need it – strong is still allowed to have back-up. And you have the second best back-up in the world.’  
‘Second best?’ Shoma asked, wet and cracked and vaguely confused, and Itsuki flashed him a fierce, twinkly-eyed smile, shrugging as best he could against Shoma’s tight grip.  
‘Yeah. Second best.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘But don’t worry: me and Yuzu are the ones with the best back-up in the world…’ When Shoma simply frowned at him, Itsuki let out a soft laugh, jabbing his elbow into Shoma’s ribs and shaking his head in fond despair. ‘Sho: we have _you_. And you _always_ come through. It’s who you are. There’s nothing better than having Shoma on your side: trust me.’

It didn’t come as a surprise to Shoma that he couldn’t fall asleep that night; for once his head was quiet, but his body was thrumming with feeling, like the switch inside him was stuck on full blast and he couldn’t turn it off. At the Foundation he had felt like everything was moving too fast and he hadn’t a hope of keeping up, but standing still and watching everything else continue moving didn’t satisfy the fight in him – he wasn’t happy standing on the outside, and as frightening as the thick of things could be, he craved it, all of it, the purpose and the chaos and the force of feeling, the way it made him feel alive. There was so much that was out of his control that he was actually able to make his peace with it; he could accept that there were outside forces trying desperately to make his life as difficult as possible, but what he couldn’t accept was lying down and letting everyone else deal with the consequences. There was enough self-belief starting to crystallise inside him that he was able to push his fear of all the unknown obstacles back, confident in his own ability to withstand and resigned to the fact that he had no choice but to go forward with hope and determination and gritted teeth. What he was stumbling on now was that it had become those few things he had thought were in his control that he now couldn’t handle: his dreams, his emotions…his heart.

The moon was bright, lighting the room a crisp, icy white, and Shoma blinked his eyes against it, trying to adjust to the shadowy outlines of the space around him. His eyes fell immediately on something shimmering softly amongst the dark shapes: Yuzuru’s jacket hanging on the back of the desk chair, the lettering of his name catching the moonlight as it fell in a column across the space. Yuzuru, everywhere, again. Shoma glanced over to Itsuki’s bed, peering over at the tuft of dark hair sticking out from the sheets in an effort to judge if he was really asleep; his breathing was even and heavy, the covers heaped up over most of his face, and Shoma was fairly confident he was gone enough that he could sneak out of the room without waking him. Carefully he pushed his covers back, shifting himself to the edge of the bed and padding over to the desk. He slipped the jacket on, finding immediate comfort in the softness of the fabric and the powdery blush of bergamot that crept into the air; there was safety in the reminder of familiarity, the reminder of presence – Shoma could almost hear Yuzuru laughing “Do you like me for me or for my jackets, huh?” as his eyes sparkled with fondness and delight, his smile like the sound of bells in Shoma’s ears, still ringing even now. Shoma took a deep breath and reached into the pocket, his lips curling into a slow smile as he heard the faint crinkle of the note.  
‘Sometimes there’s only hot chocolate and a moment alone, right?’ he whispered to himself, his chest full of feeling and drums on the furthest reaches of his consciousness.

Taking care to move as quietly as he could, Shoma snuck out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. He worked swiftly but softly, keen not to wake anyone and not even daring to turn on more than the one light; it was hardly the first time he had crept out of his room at midnight to sneak himself something sweet and sit alone with his thoughts, and he found it easy to work in the half-light, enjoying the concentration it took to close every cupboard gently and set cutlery down carefully. He followed Yuzuru’s perfectly laid out instructions exactly as he had intended him to: step by step and with a patience that successfully kept all other thoughts at bay. The smell of the hot chocolate was soothing and warm, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile as he topped it with more marshmallows than was strictly necessary, finding something pleasing in the sticky pink and white mountains they created and licking the remnants from his fingers with a soft sigh. Of course, he usually like his marshmallows with lightning, these days, but this way was good too, he thought with a hint of a blush and a roll of his eyes.

He wandered through to the living room, cupping his mug in his hands and taking a tentative sip; hot, sweet and comforting, the exact medicine he was looking for. He didn’t bother to turn on the light, heading directly to the window seat at the far end of the room and curling up on it with a long, deep sigh, shifting so he was bathed in the moonlight coming in through the window and pulling his knees up to his chest, angling himself to get a better view of the sky overhead. It had always been his late-night thinking spot – the place he retreated to when he needed to allow his mind to drift without the danger of Itsuki waking up and worrying about him. The familiarity alone was calming, but combined with the magic that was Yuzuru’s hot chocolate Shoma felt at peace, just tired enough to relax and let himself feel everything which had been stirred up in him by his weekend at home.

It was a cool, clear night, and the stars were bright, shimmering and winking down at Shoma like it was a dance – the same way they did at the Foundation, magical and strangely knowing. They didn’t hold the same wild glitter of Yuzuru’s conjured sky in the garden, but there was something captivating in them just the same. He had always believed in magic – regardless of power and what he knew his own power was capable of, he had never been one to take it for granted that moonlight could turn an insignificant moment into an enchantment, or that the way someone smiled could change everything you understood about their soul. But he had never thrown himself into it the way Yuzuru did, had always preferred to watch it from afar and see what he could learn from the way it made other people feel. The Foundation – and Yuzuru’s garden – had immersed him in magic, washed it over his whole being and pulled out his own magic in ways which he had never really realised he had. The stars didn’t look the same to him any longer – his own power mark didn’t look the same to him any longer – and everything, even the dusk, was imbued with new meaning. Everywhere, all around him, the mundane had become precious – moments and memories making magic wind its way in, giving him so much more to lose in every second. But Sota was right: he felt alive, he felt like that was a miracle he was capable of doing justice to, if he could just figure out where to start. His heart ached inside him still – like a warning and a whisper and a wonder – and he closed his eyes for just a second, letting himself sway into the memory of Yuzuru’s laugh against his lips as he told him off for being too short, the stretch of his power mark’s wings beneath his fingers, the look on his face as Shoma dragged his suitcase off up the hill without him. It all looked like a painting in his head, the colours bleeding and blending, dripping off at the edges in iridescent oil slicks and seeping out into the darkness beyond. He could see it all, vivid and wild. And although he still couldn’t shake the sadness that always came with admitting something was over, he couldn’t help but wonder if the happiness was greater, if the miracle was bigger than the ache – because, somehow, against the odds, in a world of chaos and fury and an insistence that growing up meant forsaking magic altogether…he had lived and breathed inside a hazy dream of cherry blossom, laughter and painted skies. And whatever happened next, he had known Yuzuru once. Somehow, enough of the universe’s happenstances had all lined up for them to meet – and that was something time wasn’t going to change, whatever he chose to do next.

Shoma was still lost in his thoughts when, from somewhere behind him, came the sound of someone politely clearing their throat, making him jump and curl in instinctively. When he turned he saw his mother standing over him, her arms folded and a faintly amused smile on her face as she quirked an eyebrow at him, sighing her most weary sigh and shaking her head.  
‘I should have known it would be you up at this hour, huh?’ she said, her smile soft and her eyes shining kindly in the moonlight, and Shoma offered her a gentle, sheepish grin, lifting one shoulder in a timid shrug. ‘I’m sorry if I startled you,’ she added then, moving to perch at the opposite end of the window seat. ‘I heard someone was awake…your brother has school in the morning, and I would have had to tell him off. But as soon as I saw someone was sitting in the window like this, then I knew it would be you who was up – this was always your thinking place.’ Shoma pursed his lips, nodding slightly and looking back down into his hot chocolate. His mother tilted her head in an effort to hold his gaze. ‘Big challenges and big choices, great sadness and great fear…you have faced it all from your little seat under the stars. And you have always come out of it with the answers you needed, I think. When given time and some gentle encouragement here and there.’ She nudged his leg. ‘I am sure – whatever it is – you will come out with the clarity you need. Time, kindness and a little quiet is all you have ever needed to make good choices for yourself, Shoma.’ Shoma still didn’t meet her eyes, but he gave a small nod to show he was listening, lifting his eyes back up to the stars.  
‘Maybe,’ he sighed. ‘Maybe I don’t really know what it is I’m trying to decide on this time, though.’ His mother hummed softly, shifting just slightly so she too could look up to the sky a little more easily.

As they fell into an easy silence, Shoma noticed his mother reach into her dressing gown pocket for something, and he glanced over at her, his eyes widening slightly when he saw her produce the folded up piece of paper on which Yuzuru had written his note. His mother’s smile was shrewd but kind as she tipped her head to one side in consideration, turning the paper over in her hand and looking down at it for a moment before holding it out to him.  
‘You left this in the kitchen,’ she remarked, measured and soft, and Shoma bobbed his head, taking the note from her and hiding his face behind his fringe, a blush rising in his face. ‘Someone must care a great deal about you, to send you away with a hot chocolate recipe and such heartfelt advice.’ His mother sat back, her eyes still studying his face, something sad and caring and perhaps a little worried touching the edges of her expression. Shoma pulled his legs a little closer to his chest and kept his eyes turned down, gazing at the paper with the same intensity he had gazed at the stars before. ‘This note…it was written by the famous Mr. Hanyu, no? Your “Yuzu” as he you call him.’ His mother’s voice was all earnest concern, and Shoma’s lips twitched up at one corner as he gave another shy nod in reply.  
‘He snuck it into my pocket before I left.’ He wet his lips, closing his eyes for a moment, an almost-smile crossing his face. ‘He’s always bringing me food and sweets…and he knows my favourites and saves them on one side of his plate and pushes it over to me when he’s done…it’s stupid, you know? But it’s kind too. And it’s just…how he is.’ His mother nodded, slow and contemplative, her eyes turning up towards the sky.  
‘He must care about you a lot, your Yuzu. To do these small things without thinking, it adds up to big feeling. After all, even the biggest heart could be capable of caring less.’ Shoma tipped his head just a little, his lips quirking at one corner as he cast his eyes down into his drink.  
‘I told you before: Yuzu doesn’t do less.’  
‘Maybe that’s true,’ his mother said, soft and sceptical. ‘But he spoke so fondly of you to the press, and you speak of him that same way too…that tells me that you two must have grown very close in your time together.’ She paused, pursing her lips for a moment before continuing. ‘I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t let me and your father know that – you know we wouldn’t have cared whether he was the great Yuzuru Hanyu or someone whose name we had never heard of before…if he was treating you well, if you were calling him such a dear friend…or maybe more than just a friend…we would have been happy, we wouldn’t have pried or fussed if that wasn’t what you wanted.’  
‘I know, Mum,’ Shoma sighed, resting his chin on his knees. ‘But he’s so private. There are whole universes inside him that no one else is allowed to know.’ He swallowed and took a breath. ‘No one except…me, I suppose,’ he added more quietly. ‘I’m pretty sure I know all his secrets. And I know he knows all of mine.’  
‘Yet you hardly mentioned him to us whenever you called?’ his mother asked, surprised but still gentle somehow. ‘I know how much it takes for you to open up to someone like that, Shoma. Which means he must have been…very much part of your life there.’ Shoma shrugged again, and his mother sighed, sagging just a little and looking thoughtfully at his bowed head. ‘Did you not tell us because you were afraid how we would react? To…you liking a boy in that way?’ Shoma’s head jerked up immediately, and he looked at his mother in mild horror, his cheeks suddenly furiously hot and his eyes wide.  
‘Mum!’ He stared at her for a moment, incredulous, and she let out a small, unapologetic laugh, shrugging.  
‘What?! Shoma, what am I supposed to think, huh?’ Shoma rolled his eyes and tipped his head back with a faint groan.  
‘I don’t know…that maybe I wasn’t even sure what to tell you or where to start? That it wasn’t even my secret to share? I mean…didn’t we already talk about that other stuff back in high school?’ he complained faintly, and his mother made a short, disapproving sound.  
‘I don’t know so much about that. I suppose you just assumed we knew…after that boy broke your heart…’ Shoma winced, his cheeks flaming once more.  
‘Don’t be so dramatic, Mum,’ he muttered, rolling his eyes. ‘He didn’t break my heart he just…said a lot of stuff I wish he hadn’t, that’s all. He didn’t mean anything to me. Not…not like Yuzu.’ He blew out a breath, shaking his head and looking down. ‘Anyway…that’s not why I didn’t tell you about Yuzu, ok?’  
‘Ok,’ his mother said, simple and open, sitting back just a little and dipping her head to try and meet his eyes. ‘So…if it wasn’t that…then what was it, Shoma? Because…maybe Yuzuru’s privacy played a part in your choice, but it can’t have been the only reason. We are your family – you have always told us about what is important to you. Why is this boy different?’ Shoma closed his eyes and took a moment to untangle his reasons, and his mother waited, patient but expectant, until he met her gaze once again.  
‘I think…I think I knew that if I told you one thing about Yuzu…I’d have ended up telling you everything about Yuzu. And the everything? You would’ve seen right through it. And you would’ve held me to a higher standard than Itsuki does; you wouldn’t let me not talk about it…or half-heart my answers. You’d have made me think about what it was Yuzuru means to me before I was ready to. And…once I told you that…he would have become totally a part of my world, my life. He’d be as close as family.’  
‘But he already is, isn’t he, Shoma? Don’t you think?’ Shoma twisted his lips to one side in a reluctant smirk as he bit the inside of his cheek.  
‘Yes,’ he admitted in a whisper. ‘But I didn’t have to acknowledge it before.’

For a while his mother was quiet, watching him with the same soft, contemplative look in her eyes that he had been giving the sky. Shoma chewed at his lip and turned his gaze back to the now-empty mug in his hands, tracing his fingers around the rim, the remnants of marshmallow and chocolate making them sticky.  
‘You know, when you were born, you were so small that you gave the doctors far more to worry about than looking for power marks or wondering much at all about your future – everything was about what could be done for you right then, in that moment. But you are a fighter and that time passed, and by then…it was the farthest thing from anyone’s mind.’ Shoma looked up slowly at his mother, whose gaze had turned distant and heavy, something shining in her eyes which made Shoma smile slightly. She leant in just a little, a smile creasing her own features for a moment as she touched her fingers lightly at his fringe, brushing it out of his eyes before grazing her fingers along his cheek with a sigh. ‘Your father was the one who found your power mark, you know? The tiniest sun…all in gold; he knew how different that was. He told me and he asked if we should take you to the doctors who specialised in these things, to try to find out what your classification might be and to see if they could tell us something about the meaning of such an unusual mark.’ His mother’s smile turned wry and almost mischievous as she tipped her head and shrugged. ‘I told him no – I wanted to keep you close, enough with the hospitals and the tests. Besides, by then I had seen what had happened to your Yuzuru – as soon as people realised he was special, his life was never his own any longer. I didn’t want that for you. And yet…I knew you were special. No one has ever seen a sun as a power mark before, of course, but…it was more than that. I always saw it in your eyes. Even before you could speak, I could learn a thousand things about you in your eyes. And one of those things? Was that you would become someone strong of mind, but gentle of heart.’ Her hand moved to his chin then, holding it for just a moment as she met his gaze with firm, fierce affection. ‘This is your way, Shoma. To hold in, to wait, to think things over. And then to care with all you have. Somewhere in this time of worry? You will find the answer. And more importantly? You will find the strength to accept it, with all your heart. Whoever this boy is to you, whoever you want him to be? You will not need me to tell you. You will tell yourself.’ His mother sat back then, her hand moving to Shoma’s knee. ‘It is ok to miss him, Shoma, if that is what you want to do – it is not a failure to miss someone just because you told yourself you would not, and it is not a failure to change your mind about the real meaning of a goodbye after it has been given…not if it was given before you fully had a chance to process exactly the risk taken in saying “Hello”. Meaning is often imbued upon moments only after they have passed, giving them new life and new relevance – no one can hold that against you, because that is life, and it is the same for all of us, power or not. Even for those with powers such as Yuzuru Hanyu’s… _powers such as yours_ , humanity means accepting hindsight. What is important is taking the time to understand those meanings and learn from them the next time we face the road ahead.’  
‘When the hot chocolate is gone and it’s time to start walking again?’ Shoma asked in a hoarse whisper, and his mother’s smile widened just a little.  
‘ _Exactly_ , my sweet boy.’ She squeezed his knee again, her expression gentling. ‘You miss him a lot tonight, huh?’ Shoma closed his eyes and swallowed, giving the smallest nod in reply, and his mother let out a soft, sympathetic sigh, shifting just a little closer and cupping his face in her hands. ‘Shoma,’ she said, gentle but insistent, and Shoma opened his eyes to look at her. ‘Let yourself miss him, but don’t let yourself forget he is never so far away from you if you allow yourself to carry your memories of him in your heart instead of shying away from them.’ Shoma tried to look down but his mother caught his chin again, holding his gaze steady. ‘Don’t be so hurt by his absence that you forget the magic in knowing him at all. Distance is only what we make it, I think. Take comfort that you two have met, and whatever else may happen, you are at least both under the same stars.’ Shoma sniffed, blinking back the faintest prickle of tears and shaking his head slightly, turning his gaze up to the sky with a wry, sad smile.  
‘Actually, with Yuzu…that’s not true,’ he whispered. ‘Yuzu could be under any kind of stars…ones he conjured for himself or ones he stumbled on in some other universe somehow…ones no one else has ever seen. He makes mad things possible. He could be anywhere. And…if he’s actually where he’s supposed to be? He’s not really under any stars at all – it’s still daylight, and he has another press conference to give. There’s always another press conference to give – barely time to even look at the stars before someone else is shoving a microphone in his face, you know?’

With gentle fingers, his mother brushed a stray tear from his cheek, taking a moment to look intently into his face before shaking her head and offering him a smile which was as despairing as it was kind.  
‘Shoma,’ she said, a sigh and a scolding and a reminder of all the love she had always had for him all at once. Shoma reluctantly looked back into her eyes, timid yet strangely hopeful somehow. ‘Then we shall put it this way, huh? _You are both beneath the same sun_.’ Shoma’s eyebrows drew together ever so slightly, and his mother’s smile twisted a little as she reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair back into place. ‘You are both always beneath the same sun, Shoma – it is the same light you both see when you look overhead. After all, the sun is always up there, right? Shining, even now – it is what gives the moon its light, a constant for us day and night, wherever in the world we may be.’ Shoma felt his breath catch slightly, and his mother quirked an eyebrow. ‘You disagree?’ Shoma swallowed down the lump in his throat, shaking his head, small and quick and squeezing his eyes closed for a beat.  
‘No…it’s just…’ He took another steadying breath, his gaze wandering up to the moon and a distant smile touching his lips. ‘It’s just something Yuzu said once. About how close the moon always kept the sun…and how he’d always keep me that close to him, no matter how far away I went.’ He wet his lips and closed his eyes once more. ‘I didn’t understand, at the time,’ he added in a murmur. His mother let out a soft hum.  
‘He is a smart boy,’ she said. Shoma laughed, a caught, breathy sound that almost made him wince. ‘He sees the sunlight in you that you haven’t always believed in, no? And perhaps he wanted you to know…you have given him something he needed to truly feel he could shine.’ His mother’s knuckles brushed fondly at his cheek and he sighed gratefully into the familiar comfort. As strict and demanding as she had always been when it came to him, she had never left him in any doubt how deeply she cared, how open she was to let him come to her, always, for consolation and protection and whatever else he needed. She closed the gap between them, taking the mug from his hands and setting it aside so as to draw him close enough to her that she could touch their foreheads together. ‘You are a sun who never wants the night to end, and he’s a moon who longs for the warmth of the day – you are both contradictory creatures, set apart and complicated and unique…different, but perhaps still the same…and you are fortunate to know each other, somehow, just because the universe managed to align long enough to give you both the opening to say the miracle that is “hello”.’ Shoma nodded as best he could and his mother sat back a little, taking his face in her hands with a smile. ‘Shoma, there are people in life who make us see our world with different eyes, see ourselves in different ways. There are others who simply affirm what we felt we already knew. But the people really worth your time? They are the ones who somehow do both, I think. The best people? They make us feel so much – so fierce and so fond and so hopeful – that we find ourselves wanting to laugh too loudly, to shout and scream and run in circles, to push and squirm and throw our hearts out of our chests. They make us want to be ourselves – they make us feel we can just be, without any reservation. It is terrifying and brilliant, to feel so completely yourself that even the parts of you which you sometimes forget are there can come out and shine. So tell me, Shoma, is that who Yuzuru is to you?’ Shoma managed a nod, and his mother’s lips twitched at one corner. ‘Then you should trust in that. I know that some feelings are frightening and possessive – I know sometimes emotion like that can have teeth and feel too big to fit in your chest. But you are not someone who is easily scared, sweet boy. And giddiness is too precious a thing to deny. Don’t be cautious, this time, Shoma. This time? Be as brave as I know you truly are. Do what the brave you tells you – that is where you will find the choices you have no cause to question.’

Shoma woke up late on Monday morning, but he felt pleasantly clear-headed, even if outside the cloud was thick and the rain persistent; he was relieved to find his mother home, having not wanted to disregard Yuzuru’s advice before a full day had even passed, and he helped her in the kitchen for a little while before retreating to his room to catch up on some of his university work. It was the first day since he had returned home that everything seemed to finally be returning to normal, and at first Shoma found it relaxing, a great relief after three days of questions, fears and soul-searching. But the longer it went on, the more it began to irritate him. Because every day there had been _something_ – as though the universe had been trying to make some kind of point to him he hadn’t been getting. It made him uneasy rather than peaceful, as though he’d missed his chance to take some cosmic hint and now the opportunity was slipping through his fingers; he couldn’t help but wonder, with a curl of dread, what exactly the universe would do to try to make its point more clearly heard, or if it would simply leave him in the dust and move on regardless, shutting some unseen door on him forever and throwing away the key, unbothered by his regrets.

For most of the day Shoma kept the feeling back, kept his head pleasantly blank and his eyes focused only on the tasks in front of him, but as the afternoon drew on his head began to ache, and, strangely, when he tried to draw on Yuzuru’s thunder, he didn’t find the usual strength in it he was craving. There was something frustrating about it – where before he had felt defeated and sad, now he felt annoyed, irritated and restless, his fingers drumming the way Yuzuru’s did when he was waiting for a press conference to start. Before he went into battle, as he put it. Nothing was resolved, the world was still a mess and the Alliance were still an unknown quantity – just because all these things had chosen not to land at his door today, it didn’t change the sense of responsibility he felt towards them. The sense of duty that had compelled him to first accept the Foundation’s invitation still, apparently, lived inside him somewhere, to his surprise – and something more too, perhaps, some sense of fight and stubbornness, a determination that didn’t quite know what to do with the concept of sitting on the sidelines whilst Yuzuru’s thunder dimmed and the world turned grey.

By the time Itsuki came home from school, Shoma was at full intensity, his mind somehow readying him for a fight, even if he didn’t know the what or the why; he had worked himself into a heavy stare, his brow furrowed and his eyes dark as he gazed unseeingly at the wall opposite his bed. Sunlight had finally broken through the rainclouds outside, dusky-thick and heavy gold, but Shoma barely registered the warmth across his cheeks or the way he had to squint his eyes to look at the scuff on the wall he had been glaring daggers at for the past half-hour. He didn’t even hear the slam and whine of Itsuki’s arrival home, or the thunk of his backpack hitting the bedroom door as he barrelling clumsily through it, pushing in backwards and throwing his kitbag carelessly over to his bed.

‘Uh-oh.’ Shoma jumped at the brash sound of Itsuki’s voice behind him. ‘You’re doing that “I Can See Into The Abyss” look you used to do before your final exams in high school,’ Itsuki said, flopping down onto Shoma’s bed and lying across it on his stomach so his head was next to Shoma’s. Shoma was sitting on the floor, his knees up to his chest and his back pressed up against the side of the bed, and his muscles were stiff from not moving for too long; Itsuki looked him up and down like he knew, flicking his ear and rolling his eyes when Shoma pulled a face and flicked him back. ‘Stop picking a fight and tell me what’s wrong,’ he huffed, folding his arms and resting his chin on them with a sigh. ‘You’ve probably been sitting here half the day already – you have to be ready to talk about whatever it is by now. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose and Itsuki flicked his ear again. ‘Talk to me, Shoma. School was boring and I have too much homework – I need to listen to someone else’s problems for a while.’ Shoma suppressed a smirk, casting a brief look up at his brother and narrowing his eyes at him.  
‘Is that supposed to be incentive? You want to enjoy my misery?’  
‘Ah, so you admit you’re miserable?’ Shoma scrunched his face up, shaking his head slightly and turning his gaze sulkily back to the scuff on the wall.  
‘You tricked me,’ he muttered, knowing he sounded childish but also knowing there was no one in the world more likely to forgive him his petulance than his little brother. ‘And I’m not miserable,’ he added more gently, letting out a somewhat resigned sigh. ‘I don’t know what I am anymore. Tired, I guess. And maybe bored.’ He twisted his lips to one side in thought. ‘Maybe yesterday is still getting to me,’ he admitted carefully, shrugging one shoulder in an attempt to seem dismissive. ‘At the Foundation, something big happens and…it’s not only your responsibility, you know? But…if something happens here, now…there’s a disconnect, I guess. Even if Brian and Yuzu know…they’re half way around the world, and…there’s things they can’t tell me down the phone. I feel like things are on my shoulders and out of my control at the same time…but that was the feeling I thought I left the Foundation to get away from…and now I’m starting to wonder if I’m making the right choices after all. I’m starting to wonder if I’m making the right choices about a lot of things, actually.’ Itsuki was quiet for a moment, looking at the same point on the wall as Shoma was, but with softer, quieter eyes, the brown depths shining slightly in the late afternoon sunlight.  
‘Like about Yuzu, you mean?’ he asked after a few moments, his voice a kind and careful whisper and something oddly gentle in the vague hint of teasing in his expression.  
‘Yeah. Like about Yuzu.’ Shoma breathed, his eyes closing as he felt the ache of that bruise in his chest once again. He felt his whole body buzz just for a moment with the relief of the admission. He gave a single, heavy nod, letting his lips curve into a wonky smile. ‘Everything always comes back to him, I guess. To try to forget, you have to remember what you’re forgetting. But when I start remembering I stop wanting to forget. And then all I end up forgetting is why I wanted to not remember…and I know that’s a mess but…it’s just the truth.’ Itsuki let out a small, sympathetic hum, and Shoma leant his head back against the bed with a tired sigh.

As the silence drew in around them, Shoma was aware of something dark and spinning in the back of his head, a brief wave of nausea and dizziness which he couldn’t explain, and he tried to swallow it down, to hold himself steady; his head ached and his skin was starting to feel just a little clammy, his breathing hard and his throat dry. He couldn’t deal with being sick on top of everything else, so he tried to force the feeling away, to deny its existence and will it to leave him alone – he didn’t have the time or the patience for being ill and he never had, and somehow even the thought of it reminded him of Yuzuru, made him crave the powdery, petal-soft feel of his healing power and the gentle yet insistent press of his fingers to the point between his eyebrows, the ridges of his fingerprints grazing his skin.

‘Sho?’  
‘Hmm?’  
‘Did you…do you…’ Itsuki huffed and sat up just a little, leaning up on his elbows and scrunching his face into a slight wince. Shoma looked up at him curiously, not used to seeing his brother struggle for the right words. Itsuki licked his lips and tilted his head back, regarding Shoma from the very corner of his eye. ‘Sho…are you in love with him?’ Shoma opened his mouth to make some quick, sharp retort, but closed it again just as quickly, looking back over at the wall and biting at his bottom lip. Itsuki was watching him with wide, curious eyes, and Shoma shifted awkwardly under the scrutiny, pulling himself in a little tighter and wincing as Itsuki nudged encouragingly at his shoulder. ‘Sho,’ he said, strangely concerned and irritated at the same time, and Shoma swallowed, looking down at his knees with a small frown.  
‘I’m not in love with Yuzuru,’ he muttered, giving a small shake of his head and letting the furrow in his brow deepen. He knew Itsuki’s gaze was sceptical, but he didn’t have the energy to match his level of intensity, and instead he closed his eyes, drawing in a deep, exhausted breath, more aware of the weak, nauseous feeling nagging at him again than he wanted to be. ‘I’m not in love with Yuzuru,’ he repeated in a whisper, his tone somehow firmer even as he grew quieter. ‘I’m just…missing him more than I thought it was possible to miss someone I haven’t known most of my life.’ He risked a glance at Itsuki, who arched an eyebrow, unimpressed, and Shoma pulled a face, looking sharply back down at his knees. ‘I miss all of them more than I thought I would, it’s not that big a deal, Itsuki.’  
‘Sure…I’m sure you miss all of them exactly like you miss Yuzu…I mean…it’s not like you _kissed him_ or anything. Or spent all your time with him. Or slept in his room and listened to his secrets and showed him your power mark and, oh, yeah, what was that other thing? LET HIM KISS YOU BACK.’ Shoma winced, reaching up blindly to swot his brother away, but Itsuki was quicker, hitting him round the back of the head. ‘This is so dumb, Shoma. You’ve spent the whole weekend talking around the issue, like you’re just walking away from some super-special friend. But we both know there was more to it than that. Someone like you doesn’t kiss someone unless they mean it. You don’t even hug someone unless you mean it – you’d get rid of handshakes if Mum hadn’t drilled us on manners since we were kids. But him? He got everything. Almost right away. Because he was your best friend, Sho – even after you kissed him, it didn’t change…and that’s the part you miss, right? The trust and in-jokes and the silences…the total understanding.’

Shoma shot his brother a half-hearted glare, shaking his head and letting his head flop back onto the bed once more, staring up at the ceiling with mild annoyance.  
‘I’ll tell you what I don’t miss, huh?’ he sniffed. ‘I don’t miss him hitting my forehead with his dumb pen with the cartoon puppy on the top that he even uses when he’s taking notes in meetings with literal world leaders, like that’s not the most embarrassing thing. I don’t miss any of the second-hand embarrassment, actually, because he just blurts stuff out and flails around and everything he does is insanely over the top. I don’t miss the bruises on the backs of my calves from his surprise attacks, or the flicking and kicking and nudging. I don’t miss that needy whine when he wants attention and I just want to sleep. I don’t miss being laughed at because my room is a mess and having pillows thrown at me and duvets pulled out from under me just because he thinks midnight is a good time to go out and see the stars. I don’t miss butterflies, everywhere, always, dancing around you when you’re trying to concentrate on something. I don’t miss thinking we’re just hanging out and then suddenly it’s power practice, or the constant winding and unwinding of his headphone cords like they’re made of gold. I don’t miss maths lectures out of nowhere. I don’t miss having to share the covers. I don’t miss watching him push his food around his plate because he’s too distracted by some big idea to even eat. Javi’s knowing looks and Keiji’s eyebrows always raising and Satoko knowing everything and everyone always watching because he’s Yuzuru and I’m nobody. I don’t miss him being the klutz but me being the one who ends up doing the wrong thing in public and him glaring and laughing and pulling on my sleeve to keep me close. I don’t miss how loud he is and how he’s always moving. I don’t miss how he never seems to sleep…until he finally does and he looks so peaceful…and it’s so sad, because he’s so rarely peaceful…and a part of you knows he isn’t really, that inside he’s still aching for something, even when he’s asleep. And it’s not like he’ll even manage to stay like that anyway, because there’s always, always somewhere he needs to be…some demand he has to meet…and his own demands of himself are the worst of all, honestly…I miss those least of all, I think.’ Shoma closed his eyes and sucked in a juddering breath, startled by his own torrent of emotion and desperate to try and rein it back in. ‘I miss him. But I don’t miss wishing, constantly, that the Yuzuru I know was actually mine. Because it’s wrong: I’m tired of him always being pulled at and picked apart by everyone else…so how can I add to that list?’ Shoma buried his fingers in his hair and let out a soft, frustrated growl. ‘I don’t miss messy handwriting in the corner of my notes asking dumb questions to make me laugh in the middle of a lecture – because I always get the blame and no one even thinks it could possibly be his fault, because he’s Yuzuru Hanyu and he’s perfect. I don’t miss cold fingers and bony elbows and things being thrown at my head because I almost missed a deadline for something and he wants to say “I told you so” but is laughing too hard to get the words out. I don’t miss any of it. Even the parts I miss I don’t miss because they’re too much and they’re not enough and everything about him is a contradiction, because he’s an exhibitionist and a maddening secret all at once, and being around him feels so safe and so perfect, but the hangover after is always the same, terrifying unknown. He’s a headache. It’s all a headache. And I don’t miss any of it. Not at all. Because if you miss one bit…you end up missing all the rest. And I’m tired of missing him. It’s too much…and I’m just…so tired.’

Itsuki was silent for a beat, looking at Shoma with narrowed eyes and a vaguely displeased expression, and Shoma kept his eyes on the ceiling, trying to even out his breathing and push away the dizziness which was getting stronger with every minute.  
‘Ok.’ Itsuki said, careful and low, and Shoma looked at him out of the corner of his eye. ‘Now say that all again, but like you actually want me to believe you.’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘Because, to me? That right there just sounded like an excuse to remember all those stupid details you definitely “don’t miss”.’ Shoma opened his mouth to protest and Itsuki flicked his temple to stop him.  
‘ _Ow_ ,’ Shoma said pointedly. Itsuki pulled a face at him.  
‘Whatever. You know I’m right; you wouldn’t even have noticed half of these things if you weren’t stupidly delighted by them somehow – like he’s the most brilliant, annoying thing you’ve ever known and you want more. You can’t wait to see what he’ll do next – because he’s a pest and a miracle and all his flaws are just some wild jigsaw to you, and you want to piece it together, to see if maybe some of those edges match up…since…he looks at you like you’re a pest and miracle too, and you desperately want that to be true.’  
‘So?’ Shoma protested. ‘That’s not love, Itsuki, that’s…a cry for help.’ Itsuki snorted, crawling along the bed and sliding down to join Shoma on the floor, knocking their shoulders together.  
‘I’m not saying you don’t need help, Sho – clearly you do, because you’ve fallen in love with a human disaster area. But…you’re kind of a human disaster area too, so…at least you guys will match.’ Shoma shot his brother a dry glare and he smiled back at him unashamed, shrugging blithely. ‘Look, I know nothing, ok? About love and relationships and whatever. I mean…I’m your little brother, right? So I’m pretty much waiting for you to figure all this stuff out for me first so you can explain it to me some day. But…if I had to guess? I’d say rolling your eyes at everything someone does, but still smiling after? Is probably a pretty good place to start. Because it’s a choice, right? An active choice, to keep them around even when they’re a nightmare. Something you keep choosing, because even though they’re dumb…the dumb makes you happy…because it’s _their_ dumb…and that makes it something special.’  
‘Like with family, right?’ Shoma said with a wry smirk, his eyes bright with a mixture of fondness and irritation, and Itsuki laughed softly, nudging him in the side.  
‘Sure. Like with family. Except better…because there’s not the whole pull of shared history and genetics to force you into putting up with them. You’re putting up with them because you want to…because it’s more bearable than the thought of not having them around.’  
‘So…is genetics and shared history the only reason you put up with me, huh?’  
‘Pretty much.’ Itsuki dropped his head to Shoma’s shoulder with a sigh. ‘That and the fact you’re the best person I know. Even if you’re a mess sometimes.’  
‘Shut up, I’m a mess all the time.’  
‘Yeah. You are. And you know who else thinks that? _Yuzu_. And I bet you he says it with the same dopey smile you say all that stupid stuff about him too.’ Shoma elbowed Itsuki forcefully and Itsuki didn’t bother to lift his head, elbowing him back without even flinching and sticking his tongue out playfully. ‘You know I’m right.’ Shoma let out a sigh.  
‘I don’t know what I know anymore.’  
‘That’s not true. You just don’t want to know it. Because it’s terrifying and impractical…and it’s probably going to hurt sometimes.’  
‘But what if it’s just a power thing? What if I don’t mean anything more to him than some sort of shared destiny and a connection based on all this magic in the air…and when it’s gone he’ll realise the person he saw wasn’t me at all. Even if he makes it out of everything in one piece…there’s no guarantee he’ll still think the same of me afterwards.’  
‘Please. Whatever mixed up, crazy power thing is going on between the two of you is the universe’s doing, but the rest of it? That’s all you and him. The magic is a sideshow. The real story is in the details. The things you haven’t forgotten even though it would actually be easier to. Someone who only cared about you because their power was mixing them up…probably wouldn’t befriend your little brother and lend you his jacket and hit you on the forehead with his stupid cartoon puppy pen because you’re maddening and he adores you. He might kiss you, I guess…but I don’t think he’d let you walk away because…the power thing would make him want to force you to stay, right? And someone who only cared about you because their power was mixing them up? _Definitely_ wouldn’t bring you food all the time and remember your favourite colour sky and spend his nights staying up helping you study. He wouldn’t let you deface his lecture notes and sleep all over him on bus rides, call him names and help you pack your suitcases – no one in their right mind wants to help you pack a suitcase, Sho, it’s a lost cause. But Yuzu did. And he did it all with a smile, right? Those are all non-power things, Shoma. Stop making the same mistake as everyone else and assuming power is Yuzu’s big thing. _His heart_ is his big thing. _You_ told me that. Try taking your own advice and…believe in him.’  
‘I do,’ Shoma said in an aching whisper, closing his eyes for a moment. ‘But that doesn’t change the risk that lies down that path. It doesn’t change the fact there are safer options, other choices. How can you willingly walk towards something that…that could potentially take every part of your story out of your hands forever? How can you know you’re taking the right risk?’ He looked over at Itsuki with a helpless shrug, and Itsuki’s lips twisted to one side, lifting his head from Shoma’s shoulder as he considered the question.  
‘I think…maybe you don’t…until you do.’  
‘Huh?’ Itsuki shrugged against Shoma’s side, his smile somewhere between amusement and sympathy.  
‘Maybe you just have to accept that sitting up in your room staring at the wall trying to figure it out will never get you the answer, Sho. Maybe you’re never going to be sure until the moment comes that…you don’t have time to be anything else. Like when you get that 3am phone call that says “I need you now”, you know? I think everyone gets something like that at some time, maybe. And the only option in those kinds of moments is clarity. Because…if you drop everything and go, no questions asked, just because of who the person on the other end of the line is to you and how much you’d do for them…then there’s your choice. If someone is calling you at 3am, asking for your help…and you’re still not sure what to do? Then there’s probably an answer in that too. So…maybe you’re just waiting for your middle-of-the-night-no-matter-what moment – maybe you know somewhere so deep down you can’t reach it until you have no other option than to feel sure, because there isn’t time to feel anything else.’ Shoma looked over at Itsuki for a moment, a mildly incredulous expression on his face and a slight frown furrowing his forehead; he shook his head slightly, lips twisting to one side in a soft smile, and he knocked against his brother’s side in silent thanks.  
‘You know, for a little brother who doesn’t know anything and is waiting for me to figure it out? You can be pretty smart sometimes,’ he murmured, and Itsuki’s lips curled into a gentle smile.  
‘I’m mostly just making it up as I go along and bluffing in the hope you’ll stop being boring and miserable all the time. But I’m glad it’s helping…somehow.’ Shoma let out a small laugh, giving him a fond shove and rolling his eyes.  
‘You’re so full of it.’  
‘Most people find me charming, you know.’  
‘Most people don’t have to live with you.’ Shoma shot Itsuki a sidelong glance, and Itsuki shifted to look at him with a twinkly-eyed smirk.  
‘Maybe you won’t have to live with me for much longer though.’ Shoma shot him a mildly disapproving frown.  
‘I didn’t say that,’ he said quietly, and Itsuki smiled, blithe and knowing as he shrugged and tipped his head to one side.  
‘No. You didn’t.’ He looked down, his smile gentling just a little and something wistful coming over him. ‘But I feel like one day soon you might say it. Because you’re going to figure out what the rest of us already know and go back – to the Foundation…to him. And I want you to know before you say it that…I’m ok with it, you know? I just want you to be happy, Sho. And I know it doesn’t change anything between the two of us now. So…when you go? Just go. Don’t make it into some big deal – home will still be home, you just have more than one, I guess.’ Shoma’s lips twitched slightly and he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling to stop himself from crying. Itsuki dropped his head back down onto his shoulder, and Shoma rested his on top with a sigh.  
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, and Itsuki shrugged awkwardly against him.  
‘You didn’t need my permission, Sho. But I figured you should know you have it anyway.’

Shoma drank in the quiet, trying to absorb it into him in the hope it might ease the weak, exhausted feeling which was growing more intense inside his chest; he still felt a little queasy, and his headache was getting worse, the room’s edges occasionally blurring and darkening and making him feel faint. He closed his eyes for a beat, trying to focus on the stillness and the feeling of the sunlight on his skin – and then, slowly, he became aware of the faintest sense of something cold where Yuzuru’s electricity usually prickled. He lifted his head, blinking his eyes open and glancing around the room with a frown. ‘Can you smell that?’  
‘Huh?’ Itsuki frowned, lifting his head from Shoma’s shoulder and shooting him a baffled look. ‘I can only smell mum’s cooking…what can you smell?’ Shoma closed his eyes again, pulling in a deep breath before looking back at Itsuki with a helpless shrug.  
‘I don’t know…like…cherry blossom? And…wood smoke.’ Itsuki opened his mouth to speak, then halted abruptly, his eyes widening a little as he nodded his head towards the bedroom window.  
‘Could it have something to do with…whatever that is?’ he asked in a small voice, and Shoma’s brow furrowed briefly before he followed Itsuki’s eyeline and let out a gentle gasp. There, at their bedroom window, something was fluttering – jaunty and frenetic – as though it were trying to get in, and as it flittered, dipped and looped around to try again, Shoma realised there were pretty pink petals tumbling from its outline with every flap.  
‘Is that…a butterfly?’ he said, his voice soft and hesitant as he stared, letting himself feel the confused mixture of panic and hope the possibility stirred up in him. There was only one person in the world who could make butterflies and petals dance for him on command, only one person who would think to send them across an ocean – but what would make him do it, Shoma couldn’t begin to imagine.

Itsuki got to his feet, crossing over to the window and pushing it open just enough to allow the strange, flittering creature in, and Shoma let out a short, sharp rush of breath as he felt the air change in the room instantaneously, the shock of electricity as familiar to him now as the feeling of his own power. _Yuzuru_. Shoma shivered and slowly got to his feet, but he didn’t take his eyes off the strange butterfly as it took a moment to get its bearings in the room. It was bigger than any butterfly Shoma had ever seen before, its outline strangely jagged, and, Shoma realised, its wings somehow crinkled, the white criss-crossed with creases and smudges, a little bent and uneven and with black and grey scratchy markings he couldn’t make out. All thoughts of his previous nausea and dizziness were gone, replaced by a tumult of fear, curiosity and the smallest curl of longing, and somehow, the butterfly seemed to sense it, cutting a path directly towards him and hovering briefly in front of his face. There was something suddenly knowing and excited about the creature’s movements, and there was a peculiar sort of joy in the way it proceeded to circle Shoma’s head. Instinctively he held out a palm, and the butterfly took the invitation instantly, landing there and slowly opening then closing its wings like it was saying hello, the petal trail dissipating into nothing as it finally came to rest on Shoma’s fingers.  
‘That is one weird-looking butterfly,’ Itsuki said, closing the bedroom window and coming over to stand with Shoma, who was still staring down at the butterfly in bewildered wonder. ‘Is that writing on its wings?’ Itsuki added with a frown, tilting his head as he lent in more closely to examine the butterfly’s ragged edges. When Shoma didn’t respond, Itsuki raised his eyebrows, looking up at him in mild concern. ‘Sho?’ Shoma swallowed hard, glancing briefly at his brother before looking back down at the butterfly with wide, worried eyes.  
‘I think I know this butterfly,’ he whispered. Itsuki quirked a sceptical eyebrow, but Shoma simply nodded his head towards the butterfly, which seemed to have responded to his words by lowering its wings, as though it were holding them out for inspection. As it stilled against Shoma’s palm, it became clear what the strange lines across its wings really were – _handwriting_ , tiny, scratchy and quick across a tatty, lined page. ‘I think…I think I _drew_ this butterfly.’

Uneasy realisation was starting to creep up over his skin, and, as though it knew, the butterfly fluttered its wings once more, beginning to unfold itself with a delicate shiver of a breeze. Shoma and Itsuki watched, wide-eyed, as the paper wings crinkled and unfurled, piece by piece, until suddenly there was nothing more than a piece of notepaper lying almost entirely flat on Shoma’s hand. ‘This is Yuzu’s handwriting,’ Shoma said dully, his mouth dry and the dizziness returning. Itsuki’s eyes widened, but Shoma still couldn’t tear his eyes from the page, looking over the familiar notes with wet, anxious wonder, the lines all scribbled too-fast and half crossed-out – Shoma remembered them. It was a draft of Yuzuru’s speech from the livestream in Singapore – an early one, from before they had even left, something Shoma remembered him writing whilst the two of them were supposed to be eating lunch. Shoma had stolen half of Yuzuru’s food before he’d even looked up from his notes, and in the end he had pulled the notebook away from him, refusing to let him have it back until he actually ate something. Yuzuru had smiled so wide as he’d watched Shoma draw in the afternoon sunlight, the reflections from the courtyard’s pools casting patterns across his face which had almost looked like lightning, the dance of them making him seem to shimmer with inexplicable delight. Shoma remembered it so vividly, remembered starting to draw just for the sake of something to do other than stare right back at him. He remembered drawing a plume of butterflies soaring up along the top corner of the page, and he smoothed out the corner of the paper with a slight sense of trepidation, not sure if he wanted to find them there or not. His breath caught as he saw the proof he was right: in black, messy ink, a little smudged but still soaring in a swirl around Yuzuru’s writing, was a flock of rough, slightly-misshapen butterflies, only now, Shoma noticed, one butterfly was missing from the group, an odd void dead in the centre. ‘He conjured one of my butterflies,’ Shoma said in a faint, tentative voice, casting a brief glance up at Itsuki, whose expression was pure confusion.  
‘Seriously?’ Shoma nodded, tapping his finger to the spot where he knew the butterfly had been and feeling a shiver of residual lightning run through him.  
‘He took it from here…and sent it to me.’

Shoma turned his eyes back down to the notes, and noticed something curious in the bottom corner; he smoothed out the crinkled paper with nervous fingers, tilting his head to get a better look. There, across the bottom half of the page were messy, hastily-written words, also in Yuzuru’s familiar scrawl. With a curl of dread, Shoma realised they were written in a different ink, scratched out at an un-Yuzuru-like untidy angle in bold, insistent lines, running over the other writing on the page. The message was only two sentences, bold, dark lines which simply read “Find Shoma. Find me.”, but somehow reading them made Shoma’s whole world tip on its side for a moment, his throat feeling tight and the nausea coming back with a vengeance. He swayed just a little and tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat, something cold and desperate creeping up on him.  
‘What does it mean?’ Itsuki asked, looking up at Shoma somewhat nervously, and Shoma winced, shaking his head.  
‘I don’t know,’ he murmured, forlorn and soft as he stared down at the words as though they might jump out and become a conjured answer in the air if he just looked hard enough. He felt useless and suddenly scared, though he wasn’t sure why.  
‘Do you think you should call him?’ Itsuki ventured. Shoma bit his lip and closed his eyes.  
‘If I could just call him for an answer…why would he send me a butterfly, Itsuki?’ he asked, his voice raw and wet. He glanced over at his brother, whose own expression was somewhat fraught. ‘What am I missing?’ he asked, fragile and small, and Itsuki shrugged helplessly, shaking his head just a little and studying Shoma’s face with concern.  
‘Sho…are you really convinced this is him? I mean, with everything going on with-’  
‘I know, ok?’ Shoma said firmly. ‘I can feel his power in it…and I know his power as well as I know my own. He did this, Itsuki. I’m sure of it.’

Itsuki simply nodded mutely, not seeming to want to challenge whatever it was he saw in Shoma’s eyes, and the two of them both fell into a troubled quiet, staring down at the note like it might somehow give up its secrets if they just concentrated on it for long enough. Shoma felt dizzy again; he was dimly aware of his hair sticking to his forehead, and he felt vaguely like he was falling, something in his centre going weak. Suddenly he swayed, and Itsuki let out a sharp gasp of surprise.  
‘Shoma!’ he said, urgent and alarmed as he reached out a hand to steady him, the gesture instinctive but the distress in his face somewhat wild, and Shoma closed his eyes, nodding unconvincingly as he tried to take as deep a breath as he could. Itsuki’s grip on his arm tightened as he took his weight. ‘Are you ok?’ he asked, his voice anxious and edgy, and Shoma nodded again, this time a little more firmly.  
‘Yeah. I’m fine,’ he managed weakly, blinking his eyes open and forcing a thready smile that Itsuki didn’t buy for a moment. ‘Seriously, I’m ok.’ He folded up the paper and took another calming breath. ‘I probably just need to sleep,’ he rasped unconvincingly, stepping back and sitting down on the bed somewhat heavily. He took a moment to let the room stop tilting, and Itsuki watched him with a worried look in his face, folding his arms and biting at his bottom lip. ‘Maybe I’m coming down with something…I wasn’t feeling well before, so now with this…’ He waved the note vaguely, and ignored the dissatisfied look Itsuki gave him. ‘I think I might try and sleep. It’ll probably go off if I just…close my eyes for a bit.’ Itsuki pursed his lips and let out a heavy sigh.  
‘Fine,’ he said, looking Shoma up and down for a beat. ‘Do you want me to come wake you for dinner?’ Shoma shook his head.  
‘I’m not hungry,’ he mumbled, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, and Itsuki’s eyes widened a little.  
‘Ok, now I’m really worried: you’re _never_ not hungry.’ Shoma pulled a face, shooting his brother a weak glare.  
‘Shut up and just…tell Mum I’ve got a cold, ok? I don’t want her panicking that it’s something serious when I probably just got it from being out in the rain the other day.’ Itsuki still didn’t seem sure, but he nodded anyway, unfolding his arms.  
‘Sure…and I guess I’m not telling her about the note either, huh?’ Shoma gave him a dark look and Itsuki rolled his eyes. ‘Of course not. Why bother her with the knowledge that Yuzuru Hanyu is sending her eldest son messenger butterflies…it’s not like that’s out of the ordinary or anything.’  
‘Itsuki.’  
‘I know, I know. But…please just rest and feel better, ok?’ Shoma bobbed his head, lowering himself carefully down onto the bed with a soft whimper.  
‘I’ll try.’

Shoma closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Itsuki letting out a mildly frustrated huff before turning and heading for the bedroom door. He heard the click of the door opening, but didn’t hear it close, and he lifted his head curiously, briefly squinting over to the doorway and frowning when he saw Itsuki still standing there, gazing over at him worriedly.  
‘Sho…you can still sense him, right? Yuzu, I mean?’ Shoma’s lips twitched in a half-smile, and he dropped his head back against the pillow.  
‘You’re worried about him too, huh,’ he mumbled, closing his eyes again and briefly reaching out with his power. There was thunder out there somewhere – quiet but still there – and he nodded slightly against the pillow. ‘Yeah. I can still sense him. A little bit, anyway.’ He opened his eyes again, offering Itsuki another small smile, and Itsuki smiled back, giving a small, uncertain nod in return before slipping softly out of the door.

Shoma felt so faint and so drained that he expected sleep to come to him quickly when he closed his eyes, but instead the dark behind his eyelids seemed only to intensify the ache in his bones. The sensation felt a lot like being pulled underwater at first, like some unseen hands were dragging at his ankles, his limbs loose and useless against the force. There was some distant edge of electricity running along his spine, and he felt winded by it, letting out a soft, punched-out sound against his pillow and curling himself in – as the electricity grew a little stronger, the pulling ebbed out and became a whistle by his ear, a rush of air across his face. He was either flying or falling, he wasn’t sure which, but the feeling gripped his whole body, and he allowed himself to sink into it, surrendering because his head ached too much for him to concentrate on doing anything else. He could smell wood smoke and cherry blossom again, and a strange thud of impact ran through his whole body.

After a few moments had passed, Shoma let out a groan, lifting his head just slightly and squinting around him. He knew it was no longer his bed beneath him, the warm, familiar air of his childhood bedroom replaced by something cold, oppressive and dark. Whatever world it was that his imagination had conjured up, Shoma could certainly recognise his unease in it; the clearing was all scorched-earth and heavy fog, and the air was thick with dry, ceaseless static, making it hard to breathe. Woods surrounded him as far as he could see, a sort of all-seeing darkness lurking between the branches all around, but the clearing itself looked battle-scarred and blackened, the trees at its edges so burnt they had become charcoal, one or two still smoking slightly into the dense, icy air. Shoma got to his feet cautiously, dusting himself off and taking a moment to look around him. When he glanced down at the ground he realised even the grass beneath his feet seemed parched and singed, though strangely there were petals scattered across its surface, soft, fresh and blush-pink, light and out of place in the greyscale scene. The air crackled in Shoma’s ears and he winced, recognising the sucking, sinking, dragging feeling as the same sensation he had experienced on the Grey Zone visit. The air was cold and eerily still, and Shoma shivered as he gazed upwards, trying to see the sky, but the canopy of the trees left standing was too thick, and an artificial night hemmed the smoky air in, the leaves creating a constellation out of what little glimpse of daylight could be found in the world beyond – an impression of midnight clung to the space, and Shoma shivered slightly against it. And then he felt something different briefly flicker out from the background hiss: a small, weak lightning strike that sent goosebumps over his skin.

Shoma turned, quick and sharp, regarding the space with wider, more alert eyes – and this time he saw it: a dash of dusty watercolour, a streak of white and elbows and a mess of wet black hair. ‘ _Yuzu_!’ he let out, anguished and breathy and sudden. With a rush of air he leant forward just a little, half-stumbling into life, his body moving before he’d even fully processed what he was seeing. He ran across the distance between them, the air sharp and cold inside his chest, every cell in his body suddenly alive and some swell of feeling rising up inside his ribcage, drawing him instinctively towards the limp, ragged shape, huddled on the ground beneath the tallest tree. ‘Yuzuru?’ Shoma breathed it out like a wound, his voice a little softer as he thudded to a halt, instantly crumpling to his knees and reaching out, his forehead pinching into a distressed frown as he took in the pale, clay-coloured skin, the unusually slack face and flaccid limbs. He swallowed down the tears that wanted to come, his determination winning out over his fear as he crawled the final space between them and tentatively touched his fingers to Yuzuru’s cheek. His face was covered with smudges of what looked like soot, and his clothes were dishevelled, like he’d dragged himself through hell just to make it to this strange, isolated spot in one piece – but, reassuringly, there was still a familiar trace of warmth in his skin. ‘Yuzu, please,’ Shoma whispered, shifting himself to he could take Yuzuru’s head into his lap, stroking his messy hair from his eyes. As Shoma’s fingertips grazed Yuzuru’s face, he saw the muscles there begin to shift just a little – and Shoma almost laughed, because he recognised the twitch in his cheek, the twist of his lips, remembered the expression as the same one he always had when he was roused out of a particularly intense maths problem. ‘Yuzu,’ Shoma said again, a little firmer, brushing his thumb under his eye and across his cheekbone, and Yuzuru’s eyelids fluttered then, his eyes opening slowly. For a moment he looked up into Shoma’s face with a blurry, uncomprehending stare – and then, like someone had opened their palm to reveal a glowing star there, his face split into a sleepily delighted smile that made Shoma’s heart want to climb outside of his chest.  
‘Shoma,’ he mumbled. ‘You found me.’ Shoma let out a wet, gentle laugh, nodding and leaning down to touch their foreheads together.  
‘Of course,’ he breathed, closing his eyes for a beat and drinking in the contact, a smile twisting his lips. ‘I always do.’ Yuzuru laughed softly, the sound part-sigh and part-hum as he nodded his head, sinking into Shoma’s touch as though there was healing in it – but Shoma could only wish there was healing, because as much as he tried, his power wouldn’t come, blocked by the fog of grey that sat so heavy in the air around them. He drew in a deep breath, committing the soft feeling of Yuzuru’s skin and the sound of his breathing to memory – drawing what comfort he could from the fact he was there with him, still present and alive somehow despite everything.

Slowly Shoma sat up, his hand smoothing Yuzuru’s hair back from his forehead fondly as he gazed down at his features; he studied every detail of him with a quiet, unguarded wonder, like he was a trick of the light he’d somehow managed to turn solid in his hands. Even damp and broken Yuzuru was beautiful – enchantingly bright and hauntingly fragile, almost seeming to glow in the burnt grey light – and Shoma ached again, only this time with relief and affection and a protective fight that lingered low in his belly. Somewhere beyond their darkened clearing it was raining, and Shoma could hear the distant roar of it, but where they sat everything felt desperately dry except for Yuzuru’s pale, clammy skin. Shoma stilled his fingers in his hair and stared down into his face with a fraught, worried longing, and Yuzuru seemed to sense it in him, his eyes flickering open once again.  
‘Shoma – don’t,’ he said, insistent but soft, and Shoma’s forehead creased into a slight frown.  
‘Yuzu…what happened?’ he asked, his voice sounding more timid than he wanted it to, and Yuzuru let out a low groan, closing his eyes again and turning his face into Shoma’s palm with a mild grimace.  
‘They’re trying to take out more than they put in,’ he said, his voice hoarse and thready, and Shoma frowned, his fingers instinctively resuming stroking his hair.  
‘What do you mean?’ he pressed gently, and Yuzuru winced like it hurt to think.  
‘They came for me. And they tried to take me. And it didn’t work. And then their whole bodies caved in – and I think…I think the whole world almost caved in too.’ He drew in a breath so ragged in made Shoma flinch, and he coughed slightly, placing a hand to his chest that Shoma automatically reached for, putting his own over it and holding it there in a silent show of support and sympathy. Yuzuru swallowed and seemed to steady himself just a little with Shoma’s touch, opening his eyes again and looking up into Shoma’s face, his gaze unfocused but his eyes still twinkling somehow. ‘Snatchers, Grey Zone…the only choice was fire…’ Shoma’s eyes widened just a little and he glanced around at the burnt trees with fresh understanding.  
‘You kept them back?’ Yuzuru managed a small nod.  
‘Just enough – this is the border of the Grey Zone now, though, and they won’t be far. I used the last of my power to find you…I found the paper in my pocket and I knew I could…I knew if I could just reach you…’ He closed his eyes again, a sharp whimper escaping his lips, and Shoma squeezed his hand. ‘I knew your power would know what to do if I could just reach out for long enough.’ Shoma’s eyebrows drew together, Yuzuru’s frail, cracked words not fully registering, but he didn’t want to press him any more than he had. Yuzuru squeezed his hand back and Shoma couldn’t help but smile just slightly, sad and lopsided; it was nice to hold him again, to feel his rough, slender fingers against his own and see the neat, dark lines of his lashes fanning out against his skin. He was a living, breathing painting – gorgeous and full, not hollow like the character from the TV screen. Even in his imagination, Yuzuru felt so warm, and he still smelt vaguely of jasmine and bergamot, even beneath the heavy overtone of charcoal.  
‘Where’s Brian?’ Shoma ventured, thinking perhaps he would have the answers Yuzuru wasn’t up to giving, but Yuzuru mumbled something soft and incoherent that Shoma couldn’t help but laugh at. ‘Yuzu: use your words,’ he said, his voice the gentle, musical tone his mother used to use on him if he refused to tell her what was wrong with him when he was younger. Yuzuru’s lips curled, his eyes blinking open, and he looked up at Shoma like he was a whole galaxy of stars.  
‘Shoma,’ he protested weakly. ‘I’m tired.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘First of all? That’s my line. And second of all? You can’t sleep, Yuzu,’ he said, his expression shifting into something desolate and nervous as he chewed at his lip for a beat, letting out a sigh. ‘Yuzu, if you sleep…I’m worried you won’t wake up…you’re weak and I can hardly feel your lightning.’ Yuzuru hummed, his eyes closing again as he nodded slightly, and Shoma grazed his knuckles along his cheek in an effort to keep him awake. ‘Yuzu: where’s Brian?’ he asked again.  
‘Evacuated, probably. They all should be by now,’ Yuzuru croaked. ‘They don’t know I’m gone yet. But they will. And they won’t know how to find me.’ He coughed, leaning into Shoma’s touch gratefully. ‘That’s why I needed you.’ Shoma took a moment, his eyes still on Yuzuru’s face as he tried to unpick the thought. He tilted his head.  
‘Power boost?’ he asked, light and almost mischievous, and Yuzuru laughed wetly.  
‘A little,’ he said, opening one eye and giving an awkward one-shouldered shrug. ‘But mostly I just needed you. I needed the way your mind works. And I wanted to feel the sun.’ The corner of Shoma’s lips twitched into a shy, tiny smile, and his fingers stilled in Yuzuru’s fringe as he lowered his gaze.  
‘You really think I’m your best option?’ he asked, quiet and sceptical, and Yuzuru gave his hand a sudden, firm squeeze, crushing his fingers so fiercely Shoma looked back into his eyes immediately.  
‘Of course,’ Yuzuru told him, his voice low and his eyes suddenly dark and stormy and wide awake. He was almost glaring at Shoma like it was a challenge, but there was something sweet in the curve of his lips, which were still a ridiculously gentle, pale pink, even whilst the rest of his colours seemed dimmed. ‘Of course,’ he said again. ‘Who else is Shoma?’ Shoma laughed at the indignant tone, and Yuzuru pursed his lips. ‘No one else is Shoma,’ he declared, like that was the final word on everything, and Shoma felt his heart perform a complicated somersault inside his chest, his smile gentling as he leant in.  
‘You’re an idiot,’ he whispered against Yuzuru’s skin, placing a kiss to his forehead quickly before he could talk himself out of it. ‘You’re the best idiot.’ Yuzuru sighed, long and exhausted yet strangely pleased, and when Shoma sat up a little he saw he was smiling.  
‘Am I ridiculous, Shoma?’ Yuzuru asked, eyes bright, and Shoma let out a sniffling laugh.  
‘You’re the most ridiculous,’ he nodded, brushing self-consciously at the corner of his eye. ‘And clearly you’ll do anything for attention, huh?’ Yuzuru’s smile was tired but unapologetic.  
‘Drama just likes me,’ he shrugged, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Trouble follows you around and so do I, apparently,’ he said, and Yuzuru smiled again, shaking his head slightly and scrunching up his face.  
‘No. You don’t follow me. We go side by side.’ Shoma offered him a soft, fond look, brushing his fingers idly through his fringe with a sigh.  
‘Yeah. I’ve…been starting to think you might be right about that, actually.’

Slowly Shoma straightened, blowing out a breath and looking around him, blinking quickly to try and clear his head and turn his mind back to the problem at hand. If anyone was going to find Yuzuru here without their power being cosmically tethered to his, they were going to need some way to see him through the trees – but how to do that without alerting those who had chased him out here in the first place was difficult. He glanced back down at Yuzuru thoughtfully, giving his hand another squeeze in an effort to get him to open his eyes, and Yuzuru responded immediately, looking up at Shoma curiously. ‘If I can put enough power out, do you think your power is still sharp enough shape it? Even on the border of a Grey Zone?’ Yuzuru considered it for a moment, closing his eyes and drawing his power to the surface – Shoma shuddered happily at the familiar buzz and prickle it stirred up in the air. Yuzuru’s eyes flickered back open and he met Shoma’s gaze with a steady determination, nodding slowly, something seeming to be restored to him.  
‘I can do it,’ he said, and Shoma nodded back, chewing at his lip and sucking in a breath.  
‘Ok.’ He placed his other hand on top of his and Yuzuru’s clasped ones and took another look around the clearing, scanning the space with sharper, more assessing eyes than before. ‘Cherry blossom,’ he murmured, looking back at Yuzuru. ‘You can do petals in your sleep, Yuzu – and the colour would probably stand out just enough for someone looking to recognise, but still be pale enough to fool anyone else, you know?’ Yuzuru smiled.  
‘You’re bright,’ he said softly, and Shoma rolled his eyes, feeling the blush rising in his cheeks.  
‘Shut up and conjure, Thunder Boy,’ he replied. Yuzuru pursed his lips in a show of disapproval that didn’t convince, his eyes alight with mischief for a brief, dazzling moment, and Shoma let out a small, self-conscious laugh, shaking his head and closing his eyes to try and focus in on his power instead.

It was difficult, on the edge of a Grey Zone – coaxing his already-temperamental power to the surface was a challenge, like trying to push up from underwater, feeling so close and so far away from it at the same time. For a moment Shoma worried he couldn’t do it, but then Yuzuru sent a short, sharp electric kick his way, and the effect was instant. Yuzuru’s power was a menace and a challenge, even in its diminished form, and Shoma’s power responded to it in a heartbeat, radiating outwards in a sudden burst that was so full Shoma felt the heat of it on his skin. Shoma sucked in a breath as the force of the feeling hit him, opening his eyes just in time to see a now-familiar glow starting to build between their clasped hands. As always it began with ribbons, twists of gold and silver that knotted around their arms, twisting together where their fingers met and tying loops around and under and over, soft and whispering as they weaved in and out until finally they were strong enough to pull around into one band of gold. Yuzuru lifted his free hand, glancing at Shoma, who gave one single, resolute nod, holding his power as steady as he could inside his chest, and Yuzuru nodded back, touching his fingers to his lips and then blowing out a breath and raising his hand up in front of him, twisting his fingers through the air. As Yuzuru moved, the ribbon between them grew a little brighter, unravelling and wrapping around Yuzuru’s whole being, swirling up to follow the line of his fingers, petals suddenly starting to fall from the chains of light as they moved up through the air. Shoma squeezed Yuzuru’s hand a little tighter, and he responded by turning his free hand into a fist, narrowing his eyes at the umbrella of light the ribbons had become; the ribbons instantly bundled themselves in, curling into a tight ball, glinting and shimmering before slowly growing wings, transforming into a pale pink butterfly. Yuzuru looked to Shoma once more, and he gave another nod of understanding, bringing one of his own hands up to his lips. Yuzuru mirrored the action, the two of them pausing for just a moment before, in careful unison, they both tapped their fingers to their lips then blew out a breath towards the butterfly overhead. A breeze stirred up around them – warm and gentle – and above them the butterfly stretched its wings, revealing them to be more like a bird’s wings than a butterfly’s, feathers and petals falling away from it as it soared high to the top of the dark canopy, shimmering its way between the trees like it was trying to decide which was best to land on, ribbons and petals fluttering out behind it, marking its path with golden light. It touched a low-hanging branch of a tree on the far edge of the space, and immediately it began to bloom – like time-lapse footage of spring. It drifted across to one of the burnt, broken sticks left behind from Yuzuru’s fire, and that too came back to life, the branches growing and spreading and blooming in seconds. The butterfly repeated the pattern, seeming to choose its trees carefully, picking out an intermittent ring of trees around the clearing before soaring up to the top of the canopy once more, twisting in the air and turning back to ribbons, which fell and drifted off into the dark, catching on branches as they floated down and winding into strings of stars which hung like a painted sky amongst the leaves, lighting the clearing in faint blushes of gold. Yuzuru smiled and closed his eyes.  
‘It was a storm,’ he murmured, his voice rough, and Shoma looked down at him curiously. ‘But the moon was bright.’ Shoma’s lips curved just a little at one corner.  
‘And there were _so many stars_ ,’ he finished in a whisper. Yuzuru’s smile grew wider, and he nodded his head, letting out a soft, exhausted sound from the back of his throat. Shoma touched his fingers to his face and he opened his eyes, groggy but still strangely wild.  
‘So you do listen when I talk.’ Shoma laughed, soft and quiet.  
‘I listen to you always,’ he replied. ‘Even when you don’t talk, I listen to you.’

Shoma couldn’t be sure if it was seconds or hours that passed between them; it was a breath, but it was much more than that, time bending around them and folding in on itself. He gazed at Yuzuru with the intensity he’d longed to gaze at him with when they’d stood in the garden’s hail, gazed at him the way he’d not even let himself gaze in his dreams before, not since he’d left the Foundation. He was sure he could feel the steady turn of the earth beneath them, could almost hear it – but all he cared about was Yuzuru’s hand, still in his, his dark eyes still watching him from under heavy eyelids, like he was the most magical thing. ‘I missed you.’ Shoma whispered the admission, briefly breaking Yuzuru’s stare in order to trace his fingers along his jaw and down his neck.  
‘You weren’t supposed to,’ Yuzuru pointed out, gently and strangely kind, and Shoma lifted his shoulders in a tired shrug, looking back into Yuzuru’s eyes with a small smile.  
‘I missed you,’ he said again, leaning down and closing his eyes as their foreheads touched, his fingers stilling and curling at the crook of his neck. ‘I missed you exactly how I was supposed to.’ And before his could overthink it, he captured Yuzuru’s lips with his own, enjoying the feeling of him smiling against the kiss and the way he had to strain up to meet it properly, his body all grace and tension. Everything about the kiss was slow and gentle; Shoma’s fingers tangling in Yuzuru’s hair as Yuzuru reached up just enough to brush his own fingers against Shoma’s cheek, his hand coming to settle at the curve of his neck, making him sigh just a little. When they finally drew back Shoma kept his eyes closed, focusing on the tickle of Yuzuru’s fingerprints as he traced a pattern along his skin. Their foreheads were pressed together again, Yuzuru’s head back in Shoma’s lap, but Yuzuru felt stronger now, somehow more present than he had been before. ‘I’ve never tasted your lips without lip balm before,’ Shoma murmured, absent and distracted and hardly realising he was talking aloud, and Yuzuru smiled softly, letting out a light hum. ‘You taste like spring.’ Shoma swallowed, sitting up just enough that he could look into Yuzuru’s eyes. Yuzuru shifted his head just slightly, looking up at Shoma with curiosity and patience and wonder – Shoma wanted to remember that expression forever. ‘I don’t want you to be a story I tell at sunset, Yuzuru,’ he let out in a harsh whisper. ‘I want you to be the one I tell the story to – the one I tell all my stories to. I’m tired of sunsets. I want to see it rise.’ Yuzuru’s smile was lazy and exhausted, but it still crinkled the corners of his eyes.  
‘And you will, Shoma,’ he sighed, his eyelids drooping, and Shoma touched his fingers to his cheek. ‘I know you will.’  
‘And you will too, Yuzuru.’ Shoma bent down to kiss his forehead again. ‘I’m going to make sure of it.’

Shoma slowly sat up, gazing down anxiously at Yuzuru for a moment, his eyes intent upon the rise and fall of his chest, steady but too shallow for his liking. He could hear whispers in the shadows, and he stared them down with a fierce fire, his eyes stormy and uncompromising. He gripped Yuzuru’s hand more tightly in his own, his eyes scanning the shifting shapes of the woods around them for a moment before he brought his free arm up, throwing it out sharply and sweeping it in a broad circle, his fingers twisting and curling, sparks flying out with the motion and forming a ring of gold around the clearing. Shoma pulled his hand suddenly back to his chest then, clenching his jaw and focusing on the halo of light, his lips forming a daring smile as he turned his hand into a fist and held it over his heart, his eyes glinting when the light grew brighter for a moment then suddenly flamed out, radiating off into the spaces between the trees with a rush of air. A ring of gold was left behind on the grass, the only trace of the invisible shield Shoma knew his power had left behind, and he hoped the magic would hold for a long as Yuzuru slept, because he was in no state to be conjuring any Warrior shields of his own. He gazed up at the strings of stars still swaying over them, contemplating the hazy light for a beat. He felt something determined and fierce in his chest, and carefully pulled his hand away from Yuzuru’s, smiling slightly as he let out a soft, sleepy whimper of protest before shifting his focus back to the lights above. He crossed his arms in front of him, fanning out his fingers and taking a moment to concentrate his power on the dark spaces in the canopy where no light was reaching – a small smile curled his lips and, with a flare of power, he clicked his fingers, and above him, a hundred tiny, silver lights winked into life. Shoma let out a soft laugh, sucking in a breath then throwing his arms out, and once more his power flared, each one of the winking lights growing brighter, zigzagging to meet each other in tiny lightning bolts before dissolving out, leaving behind them a faint, silver constellation that left the clearing brighter and the shadows more easy to keep back.

As he kept his guard over Yuzuru, Shoma realised that all his earlier tiredness was completely gone from his body; his muscles didn’t ache, his head wasn’t roaring and the weakness at his centre had been replaced by steel and fire. He felt alive and alert, his power close to the surface of his skin and his ability to sense somehow focusing entirely on Yuzuru and nothing else, the static around him drowned out by the piano and drums that lived inside Yuzuru always, even as he slept. Shoma would fight the world to keep him safe – and in that moment, he felt like he actually could. He was breathing inside a dream that should have been a nightmare; fear and sadness and wood smoke should have overwhelmed him and woken him up by now, but instead he found himself not wanting the moment to end. He looked down into Yuzuru’s sleeping face – took in the neat line of his lashes, the brushstroke streaks of black hair criss-crossing his forehead and the perfect curve of his lips, a little more cracked than usual but still soft and delicate all the same. He didn’t want to leave him – he wanted to keep his guard over him until dawn, wanted to see what colour the sunrise would become when filtered through the canopy of the leaves.

There were fragmented sounds still coming from the shadows beyond and Shoma turned to look over his shoulder as he felt a brush of air at his back.  
‘Sho?’ Shoma jumped, turning the other way and staring out into the dark with a frown. ‘Shoma!’ Shoma turned again, tensing, but he still couldn’t make out any shapes in the shadows. ‘Sho, are you ok?’ He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked down, frowning at the spot where he could feel something gripping him, an unseen hand shaking him just a little. ‘ _Shoma – wake up_!’

Shoma opened his eyes with a gasp, sitting up so sharply he almost knocked Itsuki over with the action; his brother veered back from him just in time, the hand on his shoulder gentling just a little as he studied him in concern. ‘Sho?’ he ventured carefully. Shoma sat hunched forward, his hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath.  
‘I’m fine,’ he managed, his voice wavering unconvincingly, and Itsuki’s frown only deepened, concern and something else Shoma couldn’t place crossing over his face.  
‘You were breathing really hard,’ Itsuki said, looking him up and down. ‘Are you feeling any better?’ Shoma nodded slowly; he tried to draw more air into his lungs, but without the same desperation, swallowing and wetting his lips, taking a moment with his eyes closed to attempt to come back to himself and shake off the remnants of his dream.  
‘I’m fine,’ he said again, blowing out a slow breath and opening his eyes once more. ‘Seriously. I just…I was really deep asleep, I think.’ He looked up into Itsuki’s sceptical face with a tiny flinch of a smile, lifting his shoulders helplessly. ‘I know you don’t believe me…but…I’m ok. It was just a dream.’ He rubbed at his eyes and flicked his hair from his face. ‘What time is it?’ he asked, and Itsuki paused a moment, scrutinising him intently for a beat before relenting, slumping just a little and shaking his head.  
‘Late…but…that’s not why I woke you.’ Shoma tensed instinctively; there was something nervous in his brother’s voice, a tension that didn’t usually belong there, and instantly his guard was up all over again.  
‘What’s wrong? What happened?’

Itsuki couldn’t meet Shoma’s eyes, and he looked down, curling back from Shoma just a little and letting his fringe fall in his face. ‘Itsuki,’ Shoma said, low and firm, and his brother bit his lip, his shoulders tensing. He blew out a sharp breath, shaking his hair out of his eyes and looking up at the ceiling for a beat.  
‘Look it’s probably nothing, ok?’ he said, slowly looking back at Shoma, still somewhat hesitant about meeting his gaze. ‘But…’ He sighed again, his eyes travelling down to his phone, which he had been holding in his lap. With a nervous twitch of his lips and slight tilt of his head he quickly unlocked it, blowing out another sharp breath before handing it over to Shoma. ‘I just saw this. And I…I thought you should know.’ Shoma frowned slightly, confusion and concern immediately stirring inside his chest, and a thin, hollow feeling coming over him – the same fragments of sound from the shadows of his dream rang, briefly, in his ears, and he looked down at the phone screen hesitantly.

There was a video left open, and Shoma tapped his thumb against the play button with a strange, uneasy knowingness – like some part of him had already realised what was coming and had shut down all his nerve endings in anticipation. He felt the same sense of feeling ready for a fight that he had felt in his dream, something cold but fierce flooding his veins, and he clenched his jaw, keeping his shoulders square and his eyes focused as the loading symbol slowly changed into the outline of a somewhat-pixelated live news feed. Shoma didn’t really register the woman with her microphone and umbrella, half-yelling to be heard and pressing determinedly at her earpiece. He didn’t notice the bank of photographers behind her, the imposing hotel building and the people in uniforms. He barely even processed the footage of Brian and several Japanese officials walking through a crowd of press with stormy frowns and pursed lips. All he could focus on was the bold lettering of the headline at the bottom of the screen: “New Grey Zone Near PPA Headquarters, Yuzuru Hanyu Remains Unaccounted For: no official statement from Japanese ministry or Foundation press office”. Shoma’s lungs felt raw and dry.  
‘It wasn’t a dream,’ he murmured to himself. Itsuki shot him a curious look and Shoma closed his eyes, swallowing hard. ‘It wasn’t a dream…I was really there…with him…’  
‘Shoma-’ Shoma cut Itsuki off with a small shake of his head, blinking bewilderedly and gazing down at the screen, the shapes in the footage nothing more than a shadowy blur to him.  
‘That’s what he was trying to tell me: he used his power to trigger my power…’ He looked over at Itsuki then, his expression lost and a hundred different emotions warring for his attention inside his ribcage. ‘I’ve never done that before – I’ve never projected into more than one place…that’s…a really difficult power…so how did…how did he-’ Shoma shook himself slightly, cutting himself off and closing his eyes in a wince. ‘He just assumed I could do it…even though it made no sense.’  
‘Sho – what are you talking about?!’ Itsuki demanded, taking Shoma’s arms and twisting him to face him. He dipped his head, trying to meet his eyes, and Shoma cautiously looked back at him, eyes wide and beginning to prickle with the start of tears.  
‘Yuzuru,’ he managed in a croak, and Itsuki frowned, quirking his eyebrows in an invitation for Shoma to elaborate. ‘He sent the butterfly. And used his power to reach out. Because he thought it might make my power reach back. And it did. In my dream just now…it…it wasn’t a dream. I was there, with Yuzu. He fought back against the Snatchers and he couldn’t do anything to reach anyone so we…we marked out the trees in the hope someone would see…but only if they knew where to look.’ Shoma swallowed. ‘Which means…which I think means that now…I’m the only person who knows where he is.’ He took in a sharp, surprised breath, his eyes widening as he sat up a little. ‘I’m the only person who knows how to find him…and I left him alone surrounded by Snatchers.’

Itsuki simply stared at him for a moment, clearly struggling to keep up with Shoma’s train of thought but making a valiant attempt to process his words anyway, not wanting to make him run over it again for fear it might distress him further. Shoma’s breathing had quickened, and Itsuki gave his arms a squeeze, nodding his head slowly and making his own breaths deliberately slow.  
‘Ok,’ he said, cautious and quiet. ‘Ok.’ He glanced down at the still-playing news feed with a pinched, nervous expression before glancing back at Shoma’s face with a sigh. ‘Ok. So. We do something about it, right? _You_ do something about it, Sho.’ Shoma looked at him uncomprehendingly and he grasped his arms a little tighter, giving him a small, determined shake. ‘Shoma!’ Shoma blinked, coming back to himself a little and nodding sharply, his fringe falling in his eyes. ‘Shoma: who would Yuzuru call?’ Itsuki asked him, slow and pointed, and Shoma hesitated, glancing behind him to where his backpack was lying in the corner of the room. The list of numbers – it wasn’t the time to be dwelling on the thought, but it occurred to him, in the back of his mind, that he badly wanted to say thank you to Jun.  
‘There’s so many numbers…and I don’t even know who’d believe me…’ Shoma shook his head slightly, glancing back at Itsuki again. ‘I don’t even know where to begin.’ Itsuki’s lips twitched down at the corners, his dark eyes glinting disapprovingly as he gripped Shoma’s arms a little more tightly.  
‘Yes you do, Sho,’ he said, low and fierce. ‘You do know, ok? Because you know him. And he trusted you with this.’ Shoma bobbed his head vaguely, looking back over towards his backpack and shrugging his brother’s hands off him so he could reach across to grab it.

The numbers list was crushed and crumpled at the bottom of his bag, still not unpacked from his journey back from the Foundation and with some remnants of his sun cookies sticking to the front page. Shoma stared down at it for a moment, his breath a little shaky, and Itsuki shifted closer to him again, giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze. ‘You can handle this, Shoma. Yuzu knows it, I know it…and deep down? I think you know it too.’ Shoma smiled slightly, letting out a small, overwhelmed laugh.  
‘I’m…working on it.’ Itsuki smirked slightly, rolling his eyes.  
‘Ok…so…work on it. Who are you calling?’ Shoma looked down at the list, biting at his lip and scanning through the numbers. The Ministry weren’t an option – they would have their own agenda in any case, and Shoma wasn’t sure how to get them to listen to what he had to say when he had no way of explaining what he knew. Mihoko was tempting, but she was his mentor, not Yuzuru’s, and this went so far over her head Shoma knew she would only end up passing him on. Ghislain would do anything for Yuzuru, but Shoma didn’t know him well, and he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be the one Yuzuru would go to with something like this. Tracy would be the first person Yuzuru would turn to for comfort, and she already had her suspicions about Shoma’s power – but, like Ghislain, as much as Shoma trusted her, he knew, deep down, she wouldn’t be the person Yuzuru would take this to. He looked at the final set of numbers on the list and smiled slightly as he saw a late addition made in Yuzuru’s hasty, last-minute handwriting.  
‘He added this one because he knew, deep down,’ Shoma whispered, a sad smile curving his lips. ‘He knew something was going to happen. And I think…he knew I’d be the one he’d call when it did…and he didn’t want me to face it alone.’ He looked up at Itsuki and showed him the paper, his eyes glittering slightly with a strange mix of affection and tears. ‘Brian’s second phone. Only Yuzu, Javi, Tracy and Ghislain have this number. And they only use it when it really counts.’ Shoma nodded again, squaring his shoulders and feeling a sense of certainty washing over him, the same fight and fire he had felt as he sat with Yuzuru in the clearing; he closed his eyes for a beat and reached out, hoping Yuzuru was still alert enough to feel some hint of the sunlight he sent him. ‘Brian is the one Yuzuru would go to when things were at their worst. He’s the one he would trust to listen…but also to only ask the important questions…and to know what to do with the answers.’  
‘Then call Brian. And I’ll start repacking you suitcases for you.’ Shoma frowned and Itsuki let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes and flashing him a wry smile. ‘Come on, Sho: we both know where this is going. You belong with the Foundation. You belong with Yuzu. No way are you sitting around here watching the clock ‘til they find him – you need to be doing something…and you want to be there when they get him back.’  
‘If they get him back, Itsuki,’ Shoma said softly, a pained expression crossing his face for a moment, and Itsuki shook his head, quick and firm.  
‘ _When_ they get him back, Sho. I know what you’ll do for someone you care about, ok? I know you’re not going to let him down. And he knows it too.’ Shoma’s lips formed an almost-smile, and Itsuki smiled back at him, soft and warm, his eyes sparkling. ‘This is your 3am phone call moment, right? So…what are you going to do about it?’ Shoma let out a wet laugh, rolling his eyes and looking up at the ceiling so he didn’t cry.  
‘Do you actually need to ask?’ Itsuki flashed him a grin, leaning in to wrap him in a ferocious hug that Shoma instinctively let himself sink into, closing his eyes and burying his face in his brother’s shoulder.  
‘You’re going to save the world, Shoma. But you have to start by saving him,’ Itsuki murmured.

Brian answered on the second ring, and Shoma didn’t want to waste another second.  
‘This is Shoma…Uno, Shoma Uno.’ He closed his eyes and pressed the phone more firmly to his ear. ‘I know how to find Yuzuru. And I want to come back to the Foundation. _Tonight_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…how did I do? I’m sorry there’s less Yuzu in this one, and that so much of it is actually just Shoma thinking about stuff rather than doing stuff – I felt like it was an important chapter for him to get the breather he needed and so I let him just do his thing, so I hope it didn’t feel like too much of a change of pace. Musically speaking, this chapter was written to this soundtrack: Affirmation, Eight Letters, Pray (Odyssey Version), Beautiful World, Come On Love, Believe, Do It All For Love, Everlasting, Spin, If It's Not Love, Up & Flowerbed - all by Take That, for none Take That songs I used...I'm probably going to be posting some of those on Twitter if you care to know, so look out for that, but Take That were the main backbone of writing this chapter, honestly. Thank you all again, to every commenter and reader along the way but especially to all of you who left such incredible comments on Chapter 5 because you guys’ words really kept me going when Chapter 6 was putting me through it. As always, you are welcome to come and tell me off for this cliffhanger(ish) ending on Twitter (@malinda_29), but those more forgiving amongst you I shall simply see you with the next update ;) x


	7. And The City Stopped As I Held You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all and welcome to the chapter that almost didn't happen! I wrote some of this in one country, some in another, some on the plane in between and some whilst sitting at my desk repeatedly complaining to myself that clearly this was never going to get done ever and feeling like I was being buried by my own chapter notes. I am clearly a very melodramatic human. BUT I got the chapter done! And as always, it is thanks to you wonderful people – your words, your investment in this story, your time and kindness…every one of you from commenters to kudos leavers to those of you I see in my notifications, you continue to keep me sane and I thank you. And to those of you who bribed, encouraged, cheered on and expressed your continued investment in this chapter through likes or messages or just reaching out one way or another: you are my heroes, you dug me out from being buried under my own chapter notes, put the document back in front of me and told me I was being dumb – you didn’t know you were doing it, but you did, so thank you, I hope you enjoy the result of your labours!! Cheerleaders, you know who you are: I NEEDED that reminder that good humans exist so THANK YOUUUUU!! I'm not sure this chapter goes the way I think a lot of you were expecting...so buckle up, it's an interesting ride ;) Musically there is SO FLIPPING MUCH, so if you want to know, pop down to the end notes and I will give you the crazy-long list. I love you all for reading and supporting this story, I hope this chapter is the reward you all deserve and that you enjoy it.....

‘…the ministry will not be making statements at this time, for any further details we would prefer queries went through our government offices in Tokyo…’  
‘…a base here for outside press and it seems like the rest of us will manage the situation through the Foundation’s press office, or that’s the suggestion…’  
‘…all this for Hanyu, again – some things never change, huh? Maybe this time the press will’ve finally had enough…’  
‘…no, no one’s made arrangements for the kid – he was a last minute addition at Mr. Orser’s request…’  
‘…there’s still no indications from the Canadian ministry or those on-site, but it doesn’t look good…’  
‘…yes, if possible, we need to get some sort of idea on the security situation out there before we walk anyone through…’

Shoma blinked slowly, hyper-aware of the feeling of his eyes moving in their sockets and disconnected from the blur of motion and voices all around him; he felt small and forgotten amidst the chaos, lost in the too-long sleeves of Yuzuru’s jacket and three inches shorter than anyone else in the room. He was too exhausted to move and too numb to feel motivated to speak up for himself, his nerve endings burnt off and scrubbed away – he pulled Yuzuru’s jacket around him a little more tightly and shrunk in, closing his eyes against the noise. A great weight of jetlag and raw emotion threatened to press down on him, stirred up by the agitation in the voices all around, but he was strangely numb to all of it, lost and lonely enough to barely register anything that was happening, choosing instead to watch the blur of motion and bodies swirling around him with heavy-limbed stillness. Everything sounded muffled and distant, like he was insulated against the awfulness, and he pulled his knees up to his chest, trying to make himself seem even smaller than he already was. He caught the faintest hint of jasmine and bergamot, but the scent had faded from wear, the cuffs no longer holding much trace of Yuzuru at all, the fabric even more faded than before and smelling vaguely of airplane air. He felt a flicker of irritation with himself for wearing it to travel in, a brief moment of panic overcoming him that he had somehow tainted its magic – but at the same time he couldn’t bear the thought of taking it off, of retreating from the safety of the soft, familiar fabric and the shimmer of Yuzuru’s name along the arm. He tucked his head in and closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of childish helplessness – allowing himself a moment of missing Yuzuru and fearing every way in which he could possibly end up never seeing him again.

‘…no, our hands are tied without the proper authorisation…’  
‘…we’ll set up a base at the airport hotel and try to clear some of the press out of arrivals that way, but they’re hoping to see Orser or Hanyu, so I’m not sure how many will leave…’  
‘…no, no paperwork yet. Passport control are happy but we have nothing from higher-up on what to do with him…’  
‘…false alarm? Ok, I’ll feed it back. But this will hinder any additional funding …’  
‘…Alliance’s additional statement just hit the airwaves. Word is some major governments are backing them. The Russians and the Americans are trying to play it cool but they’re turning…’

Shoma barely registered the frenetic dance of bodies all around him; he allowed himself to be forgotten, let them misplace him and dismiss him and underestimate him. He didn’t care – Yuzuru was all he cared about, all he could think about. As he tensed his muscles and curled himself in more tightly, could feel the ache of dull vibration through his body – the aftershock of being powered by nothing but adrenaline for hours on end. He had been letting himself be propelled through complicated travel plans, long-haul flights and international politics without the aid of food or sleep or all that much to drink, and now he had run out of energy to do anything but try to distance himself from the commotion which surrounded him, anchoring himself in the darkness behind his closed eyes instead. As he drew in a deep breath and focused in on his power he felt almost dizzy, a now-familiar nausea rising out of the blankness and a shiver of dry, parched static wrapping around his ribcage; he winced ever so slightly, swallowing the feeling down and pushing back against it with raw, ragged sunlight, urgent and fierce and terrified. Yuzuru was cold. And exhausted. And fading.  
‘Please just try to stay awake, Yuzu,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse and thready from lack of use. ‘People are coming, you just have to hold on.’ He felt the faintest shudder of lightning hit him just below his ribs, soft but bruising, and he pushed back against it with all the sunlight he had. He was more exhausted than he had ever felt in his life, but his power seemed to ache for Yuzuru as much as he did, stretching out ceaselessly. He pulled again at the jacket sleeves, pushing sunlight out and letting himself long for the delicate thunder of Yuzuru’s body and the sheer, overwhelming force of his presence. Slight and soft as Yuzuru was, he could fill a room – could silence everyone with a look, stilling all kinds of commotion just by quirking an eyebrow. In contrast Shoma was doing a good job of making himself entirely forgotten, and he burrowed down still further in his seat in the centre of the chaos-filled room, the jacket brushing his cheek with a weak breath of bergamot that set off another ferocious ache inside his ribcage. ‘Please, Yuzu. You have to come back to me.’

Shoma had lost all sense of time somewhere along his journey, and he wasn’t sure how long it must be now that Yuzuru had been left alone beneath the hazy glow of their conjured constellations; he was so worn-thin by exhaustion and worry that he had become hazy on where his weariness ended and Yuzuru’s began, but he had still managed to keep a steady flow of energy pushed outwards to where Yuzuru was, spending most of his flight hunkered down in his seat, Yuzuru’s jacket pulled up protectively around him and his eyes tightly closed as he focused in. He hadn’t slept – when he wasn’t concentrating on Yuzuru, he had been staring down at his phone, his sore, tired eyes squinting at what little information the painfully slow airline wifi would offer him, scouring Japanese and international news and messaging with his brother in an effort to stop himself from venturing down the Twitter rabbit hole again. Itsuki had done a good job of disguising his own nerves – “Are you INSANE? They’ll all tell you Yuzu is either dead or got a body double to run into the forest and is living it up on a tropical island somewhere. Don’t read anything. Put the phone away and SLEEP you idiot!” – but Shoma knew him well enough to realise he wouldn’t even have been awake if he wasn’t somewhat on-edge himself, so he had kept his mind occupied with forced big-brother-calm until finally Itsuki had gone to bed and it had been time to turn his attentions back to Yuzuru once more.

Although his phone call with Brian seemed like an age ago, Shoma was still in the same state of shock and forced-alertness he had been as he’d half-listened to the overwhelming number of instructions he had to follow just to get himself out of his house safely and subtly. Everything had happened so fast Shoma wasn’t sure his mind had entirely caught up with his body yet, his head still half in Japan. It had taken a small army to arrange his departure – Brian, Mihoko, ministry officials, security personnel and representatives of the Foundation’s Tokyo office had all been involved, and after the first five calls Shoma had stopped paying attention properly, his mind already wandering to how he was going to say goodbye to his parents and whether or not Brian would have further questions for him about Yuzuru. Itsuki, meanwhile, had held it together with impressive stoicism, packing Shoma’s cases for him in record time and then coming to sit at Shoma’s back until the series of calls stopped, his head resting on his shoulder in a gesture that somehow seemed to provide comfort to both of them at once. Itsuki had also done most of the talking when explaining events to their bewildered parents, and Shoma had all but shut down as he was forced to say a hasty goodbye, his mother crushing him into a warm hug as she told him she was terrified and relieved in equal measure to know he was going back, and his father smiling, soft and sad, as he assured him they would miss him, but that it would always be outweighed by how proud they were to have raised him to do the right thing by Yuzuru and the Foundation. It was an understated farewell – quiet but fierce and over before it had even begun – and Shoma had found himself strangely removed from it all, like he was watching himself wander through it from a distance. Maybe he hadn’t left his mind back in Japan after all, maybe instead some part of him had never left Yuzuru behind – when he closed his eyes he heard the sound of the rain hitting the leaves in the forest, the scratch of Yuzuru’s breathing. When he let his himself breathe in deeply enough all he could smell was wood smoke and bergamot and all he could taste was earnest hope and the first weeks of spring. The only person who had really managed to ground him in the moment at all was Itsuki – unwavering and steady as ever in the face of the madness, his eyes all glimmering sadness and his lips all thin-lined determination as he stood with Shoma amidst the dim shadows of a bus stop behind a large, looming building on the outskirts of town, saying a very personal goodbye as though they hadn’t been surrounded by Foundation and ministry personnel at the time.  
‘You’re going to see him again, Shoma. If anyone can drag his dramatic ass back from the brink it’s you, I know it,’ he’d told him as he’d buried himself in the hug Shoma offered, and Shoma had let out a sniffle of a laugh into his shoulder.  
‘I hope you’re right.’  
‘Oh, didn’t Yuzu ever tell you? The little brother is always right.’ Shoma had let out a sound which could’ve been laughter but was probably closer to tears, and Itsuki just hugged him harder, the two of them standing there so long that one of the people accompanying them had had to cough politely and make some remark about the time. Itsuki had given Shoma one final nod, and Shoma had nodded back – an almost defiant promise that he would fix this and reward everyone’s faith in him – and with that Itsuki had been shepherded away to a waiting taxi, a member of the Foundation’s security team going with him to act as decoy, the whole midnight outing having been disguised as mischievous brothers sneaking out for an adventure just in case anyone happened to still be watching the house. The whole scene had been so surreal Shoma had disengaged completely from what was happening around him, stepping into his own waiting car with a dull, hazy blankness and gazing out as the city scenery blurred by in a kaleidoscope pattern of colours and lights, the rain on the glass distorting everything into wet, refracted shapes that made no sense at all. The world was too big and too small at the same time – Shoma was present and set apart all at once, aware of the strangest sensations but not really processing any information from them – and if it hadn’t been for the brightness of the moon for him to focus on, he might have folded under the overwhelming weight of everything in front of him.

Shoma closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his knees and taking a deep breath; his edges were all eggshell, and, as much fight as he still felt inside, it was hard to deny the bone-deep exhaustion which was pulling at him. _But this is the path I chose. I chose it. It’s mine. And my story doesn’t end without me seeing Yuzuru at least one more time._ He pulled himself in tight enough that all his muscles became taught, holding his breath for a beat and shuddering a little against the tension it sent through his body – sure didn’t feel as strong as he thought it might, but maybe that didn’t matter, maybe all that mattered was that he couldn’t even imagine still being at home right now, couldn’t even picture how exactly he’d been planning on staying still, treading water whilst Yuzuru and everyone else at the Foundation pushed on through the currents, doing battle on behalf of a perpetually ungrateful world.

The hive of suits around Shoma had begun muttering, swarming over to focus on some confusion by the doorway that required their attention, and Shoma winced against the abrasive feeling of fuss and whispers filling the air, hunching in as he tried to shut out their busy energy with force of will – it couldn’t be a good sign that they were starting to drown out the sound of Yuzuru’s drums in his ears. Yuzuru’s jacket was large enough on him that he felt he could practically disappear inside it, and whilst the scent of bergamot and jasmine was fading, the safety and comfort it gave him was still strong and protective; he sank into the feeling with unashamed neediness, curling back against the seat and focusing on nothing but the sound of his breathing. He was just starting to drift away from the room around him again when the sound of a familiar voice calling out to him jolted him back to Earth with bewildering suddenness, and he turned his head towards the doorway just in time to see someone weaving their way through the clutter of mildly disgruntled officials, ignoring their half-hearted protests in favour of making a beeline towards where Shoma was sitting.  
‘Shoma!’ Jason called out again, and Shoma frowned, tipping his head and blinking bewilderedly up at him as he offered an enthusiastic nod of greeting, his smile carefully bright, just masking the worry Shoma could sense beneath his puppy-dog-happy surface. ‘Hey,’ Jason said somewhat breathlessly as he made it over to him through the press of bodies in the room, his head bobbing as he blithely ignored the hovering officials, who were still frowning down at whatever paperwork Jason had handed them to get himself admitted to their private room. Shoma’s frown briefly deepened as he tried and failed to comprehend what Jason was doing there, and something gentle came over Jason’s face in an instant, his smile softening into something altogether more quiet than his usual bowl-you-over grin. ‘How are you holding up?’ Shoma swallowed – he’d practically forgotten how to use his voice, and he wasn’t even sure he’d said more than two words to anyone since he’d left Itsuki behind at the bus stop.  
‘I’ve been…better,’ he croaked, and Jason let out a small, sympathetic sound, pushing out his bottom lip slightly and regarding Shoma with palpable concern before holding out his arms invitingly. Shoma, to his own surprise, practically leapt from his seat at the offer, shooting across the space between them and into the offered hug, letting Jason crush him protectively against his side as he twisted to look back at the still-disapproving officials over his shoulder. ‘I’m taking him back to the Foundation – you have all the paperwork already,’ he told them, pulling Shoma close, and Shoma peered out from the hug with wide, distrusting eyes as he watched the officials frown down at the sheath of papers in their hands. ‘You’ve seen my Foundation ID, my signed pass, you have the stamped paper with the Canadian government approval for me to be here…I’m totally legit, I promise you,’ Jason sighed, and Shoma curled against him, not caring if he came across like a frightened child. He didn’t like the ministry officials – they treated him like he was a nuisance and kept calling him “the kid” like he wasn’t even there, and he heard the way they talked about Yuzuru when they thought he was asleep, dismissive and sharp and disrespectful. ‘The papers are all signed, you know. No one at the Foundation was expecting you to just deliver Shoma like some sort of package – he’s one of us, so we came to pick him up,’ Jason shrugged, patient and calm and much less exasperated than Shoma felt inside.  
‘These are from Tracy Wilson, not Mr. Orser,’ one of the fiercer of the women pointed out sternly, and Shoma rolled his eyes, burrowing back down and fixing the woman with a petulant glare from over the top of Yuzuru’s jacket collar, which was zipped all the way up so he was little more than a scruff of hair and a glower to her. She regarded him like he was some sort of rabid, wild animal, liable to bite – Shoma wasn’t entirely displeased at the thought. Jason sighed deeply.  
‘Look, Brian’s coordinating an international rescue attempt from a Grey Zone, so Tracy is officially in charge until he gets back,’ Jason pointed out, calm but firm, and the woman pursed her lips in mild irritation. ‘But it’s fine anyway: that’s why I have the letter from the Canadian ministry explaining everything. You can see my US ministry ID if you want. I mean, seriously, we’re cool here – I’m not press. Or Alliance. Or…whatever you think I am. I just need Shoma and then I can go.’ There was a brief pause and then a small, somewhat embarrassed laugh. ‘Ok, that sounded creepy, but…I’m not here to kidnap him.’ Another pause. ‘Is that exactly what a kidnapper would say?’ Shoma smiled despite himself, letting out a sniffle of a laugh, and Jason beamed like he’d just been told he’d won the lottery, shooting Shoma a conspiratorial wink before glancing back up at the officials surrounding them. ‘Anyway, the point? I have my paperwork. And you can call Tracy or Brian if you don’t believe me. Or…you know…just ask Shoma, since he’s, like, a person with his own opinions and stuff.’  
‘You can’t just take someone who has been under our care since leaving Japan – we are in the middle of a major diplomatic incident, the paperwork needs to be checked,’ said a large, fearsome-looking man in an ill-fitting suit, who seemed almost as tired as Shoma felt. ‘The security plan states-’  
‘The security plan took you from Japan to now – but the Foundation can take it from here. And we need Shoma back to help us find Yuzu…which…is what you all want, right?’ There was a wide range of expressions amongst the group of officials, and Shoma took silent note of those who looked the most like they wanted to say they were glad Yuzuru was missing. ‘Perfect,’ Jason said, deliberately ignoring the lack of enthusiasm around them. ‘So, assuming Shoma’s already been cleared by passport control…he’s free to come with me, right?’ Jason’s smile widened, but there was something almost teasing in his eyes that made Shoma smirk just a little. ‘Do you have your bags already or do we need to go get them?’ Shoma gave a small shake of his head.  
‘My luggage is coming later…I couldn’t leave the house with it in case people were watching.’ He shrugged. ‘I just have my backpack,’ he added, nodding his head towards his overstuffed backpack on the seat opposite his and wondering, absently, what exactly it was Itsuki had even put in there besides his phone charger.  
‘Perfect, so we’re good to go,’ Jason beamed, clapping his hands together and turning back towards the frowning officials with a disarming, twinkly-eyed smile. ‘Right?’ Shoma bit back a laugh as those in charge glanced back down somewhat helplessly at the paperwork Jason had handed them and exchanged meaningful looks between them, and Jason caught Shoma’s eye, quirking an eyebrow mischievously. ‘What do you say, Shoma – you trust me, right?’ he asked, and Shoma’s expression was all sheepish amusement as the suits swivelled almost as one to regard him somewhat warningly. ‘You can ride shotgun? And I brought a flask of coffee from the Constellation Café, since I figured you could probably use the caffeine.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a another soft smile.  
‘Cool,’ he said, his voice small but determined. ‘Let’s go.’ Jason’s smile was wide and warm, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile back at him, reaching across to grab his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. ‘Although that kind of does sound like something a kidnapper would say,’ he added slyly. ‘Seriously: come back to my car, I have coffee? How creepy can you get?’ Jason laughed, putting an arm around Shoma’s shoulders and giving him a squeeze.  
‘Ah! Sarcasm and wicked smiles: Shoma’s home!’ he said, high and happy and only faintly teasing as he steered Shoma carefully around the still-dissatisfied group of ministry officials.

As they got closer to the doorway, Jason leant in, something in his demeanour sobering just a little and a gentle smile coming over his face. ‘Seriously? I’m really glad to see you back safe, Shoma – I know it’s probably been rough on you.’ Shoma looked down, a small, sad frown creasing his features for a beat as he gave a tiny shake of his head.  
‘I don’t even know what it’s been on me,’ he muttered, giving a tense shrug. ‘All I can think about is Yuzu. Until he’s safe again I just-’ Shoma cut himself off with a huff, and Jason squeezed his shoulders kindly.  
‘Please. Yuzu is gonna be fine, trust me. This is just…a day ending in a “y” for him,’ he said with forced lightness, rolling his eyes and offering a poor imitation of his usually bright smile. Shoma’s lips twitched, and he glanced up at Jason with a dry, lopsided smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jason caught his look and shot him a wink in return. ‘Ok, now we get dramatic: collar up, head down – we’re going out the back way, but we can’t be sure you won’t get recognised, and I was under strict instructions not to get caught on camera smuggling you into the country.’

Shoma did as he was told, happy for the excuse to keep himself tucked into Yuzuru’s jacket and slowly getting used to making his way through complicated mazes of corridors whilst staring at nothing but the floor. He was feeling a fresh wave of light-headed nausea come over him, starting somewhere just below his ribs and spreading out through his whole body with uncomfortable strength, and he shivered against the feeling, bunching the cuffs of Yuzuru’s jacket up in his hands and taking a deep breath, helplessly trying to latch on to his own sunlight inside his chest and push down the rising waters of what he sensed from Yuzuru – he was getting better at realising which feelings were his own and which belonged to Yuzuru, but since he knew Yuzuru was still sensing for him too, occasionally everything became tangled and overwhelming as he sensed a reflection of himself coming back to him, making him feel everything twice over, filtered through the intensity of Yuzuru’s own inner world. ‘Do you have a coat?’ Jason asked gently, placing a concerned hand on Shoma’s shoulder and dipping his head to meet his eyes. Shoma drew himself back protectively and Jason pulled his hand away, offering a kind smile. ‘Sorry to startle you.’ Shoma swallowed and shook his head.  
‘It’s fine. I’m fine. I have my own Foundation jacket on under this one,’ he said softly, and Jason narrowed his eyes at him slightly.  
‘Shoma, it’s like…super-close to snowing out there,’ he said slowly, and when Shoma simply shrugged he rolled his eyes, letting out a soft laugh and taking off his own coat. ‘Here. Take this – and no arguing. You’re exhausted and you look like you’re about to pass out on me, so I’m taking care of you whether you want me to or not.’ He held the coat out to Shoma, but Shoma didn’t take it, pursing his lips and stubbornly staring Jason down with dark eyes, making him laugh softly and force the coat onto his shoulders. ‘Do you know how pissed Yuzu will be if I let you die of frostbite?’ he smiled, and Shoma felt his own lips briefly twist up at one corner. ‘Honestly? I wouldn’t even blame him. Who would want that on their conscience?! So…I’m falling on my sword, ok? Take the coat already and I promise not to ask how it is you’re wearing Yuzuru’s jacket to travel back in anyway.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose in a show of disapproval, his eyes twinkling slightly, and Jason stuck his tongue out at him before nodding his head towards an exit door. ‘I’m parked through here – think you’re good to make it back to the car without dropping or do you need to stop for a while?’  
‘I’m good,’ Shoma said, his voice frustratingly raspy, and Jason folded his arms, unimpressed.  
‘You swear you’re not gonna pass out on me? You look like you’re gonna pass out on me.’ Shoma shook his head.  
‘I’ve felt worse,’ he said with a wry smile, and Jason’s face looked mildly anguished as he leant in to give Shoma’s shoulders another squeeze.  
‘No wonder Yuzu likes you – you’re as stubborn as he is, soldiering on like a champ.’ Shoma let out a damp snuffle of a laugh, and Jason shot him a sweet smile. ‘He’s going to be so proud of you for doing this, Shoma.’ Shoma frowned faintly.  
‘I only got on a plane and didn’t die. It’s not that big a deal.’ Jason tipped his head, humming slightly and giving Shoma a knowing look.  
‘Sometimes the biggest achievement is just…getting through the day alive and still defiant, you know?’ He shrugged. ‘No one knows that more than Yuzu. And he’d totally back me up on this if he was here. He thinks the world of you, Shoma, in case you hadn’t noticed. I think…he’s just been waiting for you to start thinking the world of you too.’ Shoma had to work hard not to smile, a faint blush rising in his cheeks that he covered with the collar of Yuzuru’s jacket and a shy glance down. Jason simply nudged him in the side, his eyes sparkling quietly. ‘Yeah, maybe I don’t even need to ask why you’re wearing his jacket after all, right?’ he joked, and Shoma briefly un-huddled himself in order to stick his tongue out, making Jason laugh. ‘Don’t worry, there’s still plenty of people at the Foundation who can’t take the hint.’ Shoma let out a faint groan, hiding behind the jacket collar once again as Jason playfully rested his head against his shoulder, giving him a squeeze which was part-tease and part-apology. ‘Seriously, you’re fine. Like…Brian? Totally thinks you guys are just _really_ good friends.’ He paused, straightening and tipping his head to one side in thought. ‘But a word of warning? With Tracy? You are so busted. And don’t even get me started on Team Japan.’ Shoma attempted a glare and Jason pulled face, his eyes sparkling impishly. ‘I get it – secrets are fun, and…for Yuzu? They’re kinda necessary a lot of the time. But you don’t need to hide with me, ok? That’s all I’m saying. This is a free space: just be you and let it out, best you get it out now before all the chaos you’re going to be walking into back at the Foundation. I mean…you’re not just worried about a friend right now, you’re worried about someone more special than that, right? So just…no judgement, no pressure. I’m only here to give you the space to deal. Cross my heart.’ Shoma offered Jason a tiny nod and a flinch of smile, his expression soft and shy as he looked away.  
‘Thank you.’

As they made their way out into the carpark, Shoma was surprised to find there was no taxi or official Foundation transport waiting for them – instead, Jason came to a stop by a somewhat dusty black car that looked like it had seen better days.  
‘Hey, could you toss me my keys? I think they’re in the left pocket of my coat,’ he said, and Shoma blinked uncomprehendingly, his eyes moving between Jason and the car a few times and his head tilting to one side as he slowly put the pieces together in his head.  
‘Wait…this is your car?’ he asked, fishing out the keys and tossing them over to Jason with more force than he intended..  
‘Of course – why?’ Jason laughed, pulling a mildly alarmed face as he just managed to avoid getting hit in the face by the keys, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him slightly.  
‘So you drove all the way over here…just to pick me up?’ Shoma’s gaze was dark and serious, but his expression had softened, his lips slightly parting as he finally let his shoulders drop. Jason’s smile was blithe as he unlocked the car and climbed in, Shoma following his lead.  
‘Sure – I mean, my car was just sitting right there at the Foundation anyway…and it’s gotta make a more subtle getaway than one of the Foundation’s official buses or whatever,’ Jason shrugged, wrinkling his nose slightly. ‘Besides, there were all these conversations going on about letting the ministry bring you, or having one of the workers come pick you up in their car…and it seemed like such a crazy idea to send a total stranger to come pick you up when I was right there with nothing better to do.’ He met Shoma’s eyes, offering him a quiet smile. ‘All the mentors are busy with the Yuzu situation, and none of Team Japan have their cars here…it didn’t seem right to just abandon you with strangers, though. I mean – I know how much you hate flying anyway, never mind with everything else you’re dealing with right now…I figured you could use a familiar face to meet you on the other side.’ Jason quirked an eyebrow, affecting a nervous wince that made Shoma smile slightly. ‘You’d have preferred a total stranger after all, right?’ Shoma let out a small laugh, shaking his head.  
‘No. I’m glad you came. I was miserable with those people from the ministry…they either forgot I was there or treated me like I was just in the way. I feel awkward around people I know, never mind a bunch of officials, so…’ He gestured vaguely with his hand and Jason smiled sympathetically. ‘How did you know I didn’t like flying?’ Shoma frowned then, tilting his head to one side, and Jason feigned a grimace, something mischievous dancing in his eyes.  
‘Oh, you caught that, huh?’ He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his smile quietening a little. ‘It was something Yuzu mentioned, actually,’ he added in a gentle tone, something kind and soothing about the way he met Shoma’s eyes. ‘The day you left he was…all over the place, honestly. Not that he’d talk about it much, but…you know, me and Javi tried to at least lighten his mood a little. We went up to the roof garden and were messing around picking out patterns in the clouds, trying to make him laugh. Then this plane went over – and he watched it like he could make a wish on it or something. He made some throwaway comment I think – saying how much you hated flying because it stressed you out and unsettled you.’ Jason shrugged. ‘Then he said you must have really wanted to leave to have decided to put yourself through that.’ Shoma winced, closing his eyes and swallowing down the lump in his throat. ‘The way he looked at it, it sort of made it easier for him to accept though, you know? Because if you needed that badly to go that you were willing to do all that travelling? Then it obviously wasn’t right for you to stay. And he thinks too much of you to want you to force it. He kind of said that…if you ever did come back? Then you would have to feel just as strongly about it, maybe more.’ Jason sighed, giving a small, thoughtful shake of his head and glancing down. ‘I don’t know, Shoma – how he really feels about it all? That’s his business. But I think…as much as that thought scared him? It comforted him too, you know? Because what he really wanted? I don’t think it was just as simple as wanting you to be happy: he wanted you to be happy and be sure of it too, even if that meant you’d be far away. He hoped it would only be for a little while, and he valued what it would mean if you did change your mind, how special it would be for you to go to all that trouble again.’

As they pulled out of the carpark, Shoma finally allowed himself a moment to feel only his own emotions, briefly dimming down his sense of Yuzuru in order to allow his own tiredness in, his fear and his frustration and that nagging longing he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to. He was suddenly aware of how heavy he felt; his eyelids were drooping and it was an effort to keep his head upright, his whole body weary and raw. It was a comfort to have Jason’s coat to disappear inside, to crinkle it around him and curl his body up protectively – Yuzuru’s jacket was warm and safe beneath it, a constant comfort that created a spell of familiarity just strong enough to mask the ache of absence digging into Shoma’s skin, bruising him below his ribs and making breathing an effort. The feeling of the air from the car’s heater warmed Shoma’s cheeks, making his head muzzy, and Shoma folded himself up into as small a shape as he possibly could, taking a moment to close his eyes and drink in the fading scent of bergamot and jasmine once again.

It was raining, but the shower was too faint to make much of a sound – Shoma gazed out of the window at the patterns of the ripples in the puddles, iridescent and haunting against the empty tarmac of the night time streets. Everything was lit orange beneath the streetlights, turning the sky’s edges a muddy amber, and the raindrops on the windscreen turned the city lights into blurs of shifting colour, starbursts of gold and white that bled into each other and trickled down in hypnotising paths along the glass. The air was dense – fuzzy and quiet and pleasantly too-warm – and Shoma felt himself sink into the weight of the moment, grounded in a way he remembered, dimly, from Singapore, as the sky turned into a purple dusk and Yuzuru smiled at him like he knew what was coming and didn’t mind taking the hit. There was something pleasant about the low roar of the road beneath them and the way the taillights around them made the shadows shift, tickling in dark smudges across Shoma’s cheeks. Jason drummed his fingers lightly along the steering wheel and Shoma’s head lolled back against the headrest; everything felt slow, somehow sad and yet strangely reassuring, a fragment of thick, poignant calm amidst the confusion Shoma had been breathing through. As they turned off and away from the city, Shoma finally caught sight of the sky above the buildings; the moon was bright, he realised, and he lifted his gaze up towards it, immediately feeling a shiver of an exhausted lightning strike run down his spine. His lips twisted slowly into a small, exhausted smile.  
‘Yeah, I know: _it was a storm,_ ’ he whispered into the collar of Yuzuru’s jacket, too low for Jason to hear. ‘But the sun is always there, Yuzu. To give the moon whatever light it needs.’ He almost laughed as he heard the softest rumble of thunder in his ears – it sounded like one of Yuzuru’s tired sighs as he rolled onto his back on top of his open notebook and nudged at Shoma’s side to get him to abandon his work too. It made Shoma miss him all the more – Yuzuru was an almost, a not-quite, a maybe, and all Shoma wanted was for him to be a definite again, a warm body, a held hand. An oncoming spring.

Jason glanced over at him, and Shoma turned, yawning ungraciously wide and blinking enquiringly back at him – despite the fluttering faintness still lingering at his core, he felt a steadiness inside somehow, at peace in a way he didn’t quite understand but that held him together all the same. Jason’s smile was somehow amused and sympathetic at the same time, and he shook his head slightly as he turned his eyes back to the road.  
‘Do you want to talk about it…or do you want me to talk so you can try and take your mind off it?’ he asked gently, and Shoma sniffed, burrowing down in the coat with a shy, sad smile. He looked down at his hands, playing with the ends of Yuzuru’s jacket sleeves as he considered the options. In the quiet he became painfully aware of Yuzuru’s drums waning, of the pressure of outside eyes looking for answers and of the questions Brian had been kind enough not to ask which would no doubt await him once he made it through the Foundation gates. He shuddered and tried to swallow, but his throat was painfully dry.  
‘Take my mind off it,’ he managed quietly, and Jason nodded slowly.  
‘Well ok then – distraction it is,’ he said, decisive yet kind, his lips curving in that way that Tracy’s sometimes did when some insurmountable problem was placed in front of her and she decided to plough on past it like it was nothing. ‘You know, missing a weekend at the Foundation is, like, missing a year in real-world time, so I’ve got plenty of material to work with, for real.’ Shoma let out a puff of a laugh and Jason lit up with it, apparently delighted to have brought a smile to Shoma’s face. ‘Ok…so…where to begin…oh! Adam and Ashley are fighting. Since before you left, actually. I mean, FYI? It’s their version of fighting – which means they’re not really fighting at all, they’re just being dramatic and finding it hilarious. Glitter bombs were involved, Ash used Mirai as a human shield, Adam got some confetti-related injury…Raf found out and almost murdered both of them and they couldn’t stop laughing when he was yelling at them so they ended up getting clean-up duty. You’re going to be finding glitter in the downstairs lecture hall for the next three months, minimum, I swear.’ Jason hummed. ‘Boyang came to my dance class with me on Sunday, which was super-fun…but we ended up laughing so hard the instructor kicked us out. Oh! And Javi joined Team Canada. There was this mix-up with his paperwork and he got listed as Canadian so…they’ve just adopted him. They even did this whole ceremony – it was so cute, I can’t even tell you. Team Japan were outraged, naturally; Waka arm-wrestled Eric in the end and won, so…I think Javi’s maybe Team Japan now. Unofficially, anyway. Gabby and Satton are threatening a rematch, though, and the Spanish ministry are so spacey about their guys I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still listed as Canadian for the next week or so. What else…Jun’s probably grown, like, another three inches – I swear that kid is six parts spaghetti or something, it’s insane. Maia is putting on a fashion show for the stores, which is cute…a lot of work though, I don’t know when the Shibs find time to sleep, honestly. And then…you remember Alina’s power had been getting stronger, right? Well, on Thursday it went crazy and she almost set Zhenya on fire by mistake; she was devastated about the whole thing, but Zhenya’s a doll, she calmed her down, told her about the time she made a raincloud follow Brian around all day by accident and it all ended in laughter. She’s starting to get things under control again, fingers crossed. Misha is doing some extra sessions with both of them – trying to give them some of that sense of control the Artists always seem to have, you know? Nate says he doesn’t get it at all. I think he’s pretty practical. He prefers Raf’s head-on way of handling power. That…and Misha’s little extra-curricular class happened to clash with Mai’s invite to go get lunch…which probably had more bearing on his decision, honestly, though he swears up and down it’s not true. Marin is totally trying to set them up – she’s just besotted with the idea. Raf would normally be losing his mind over this kind of thing, telling everyone to grow up and focus…but he’s a total teddy-bear for Marin, and he’s been in touch with the US ministry about Nate since he was a kid, plus everyone basically loves Mai, so…I think the rules are out the window. He might even be secretly encouraging it at this point, honestly.’ Jason shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh. ‘I think that pretty much covers it. I mean, aside from the obvious. Which we’re still not talking about…right?’ He looked over at Shoma with hopefully raised eyebrows, and Shoma gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Jason smiled slightly, nodding to himself and pursing his lips as he thought. ‘Ok. Well…I’m guessing Team Japan already filled you in on Kazuki’s new job as Yuzu’s muse. I totally get it, you know? Anyone would melt for him, he’s precious. I think it’s still taking him some time to come to terms with, though. You and Javi are…pretty much the only people to ever just…take Yuzu in stride, you know? The rest of us have to work at it more, and Kazuki told me he was one of those kids with the Yuzu poster and the unofficial biography and the charity calendar…the whole nine yards, you know? And now he’s hearing these speeches before the general public get the chance – it’s a lot to process. Misha keeps telling him “Oh, it gets old quick”, but everyone knows Misha finds Yuzu totally charming, so I don’t think Kazuki’s buying it, honestly.’

Shoma hummed softly, taking a moment to process everything Jason was saying, a slight furrow forming in his brow.  
‘Wait…’ He pushed himself up in his seat, the coat crinkling around him as he turned to look over at Jason curiously. ‘You’ve been speaking Japanese.’ Jason let out a bright laugh, shooting Shoma a fondly amused look and shaking his head.  
‘You only just noticed?! I’ve been going since we shook off the suits!’ His brown eyes twinkled amber in the rainy light, and Shoma looked at him with a quiet, thoughtful sort of intensity, his frown only deepening.  
‘But why would you do that?’ Jason’s smile softened and he lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug.  
‘You’re clearly wiped out, Shoma – you shouldn’t have to translate if you don’t need to, there’ll be plenty of time for that at the Foundation later, you know?’ He pulled a face then, some of the mischief returning to his eyes. ‘Plus, I could always use the practice.’ He quirked his eyebrow hopefully. ‘How did I do?’ Shoma’s lips curled slightly at one corner, and he hid his smile in his collar, settling back to curl sleepily against the window as he closed his eyes.  
‘Pretty good,’ he sighed, just about managing to stifle a yawn. ‘Your accent’s kinda weird though. Like you’ve got a bee trapped inside your throat or something.’ Jason laughed again, low and warm, and he rolled his eyes.  
‘You sound like Yuzu,’ he said, shooting Shoma a playful glare. ‘You know Satoko just smiles and humours me and nods a lot.’ Shoma smirked, opening one eye.  
‘That’s because Satton has manners. Me and Yuzu are totals pains without filters; he thinks everyone is as obsessed with constructive criticism as he is…and I’m just antisocial, honestly,’ he muttered, his expression wicked and his smile sly, and Jason shot him a knowing smile.  
‘For someone anti-social, you have a lot of friends, you know that, right?’ Shoma shrugged.  
‘Of course.’ He sat up and tilted his head, widening his eyes just a little. ‘I’m adorable – see?’ Jason snorted and Shoma smiled, flopping back against the window with a huff. ‘You get away with a lot when you’re small and useless. Itsuki thinks he’s so smart by growing taller than me, but he has no idea how bad it’s gonna backfire on him in the long run.’

The two of them lapsed into an easy quiet, Shoma turning his eyes back out to the wet scenery as it blurred past them and Jason leaning in to flick on the radio. There was something pleasantly melancholy about the low burr of the music as it bled through the speakers, distant and heavy in amidst the orange-edged shadows of the car. The distant, tinny Western pop made Shoma think of Yuzuru – of him sitting in the lobby on the morning they left Malaysia, singing along to the radio with deliberate silliness, his eyes all enthusiasm as he tried to coax Shoma to join in, something delighted in his smile as he caught Shoma’s shy squeak of laughter and the embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. Yuzuru knew how to take Shoma out of himself, how to pull him away from the discomfort of a situation and into just being Shoma, into just feeling without analysing the risk of it first. The radio didn’t sound the same without him there miming along, flicking his hair with dramatic wildness and flailing his arms around as though he had never once held those same arms out with steady grace and commanded lightning to dance at his fingertips. A whisper of a smile twisted at the corner of his lips, and he bit at the inside of his cheek to try to stifle the wave of longing that came along with it. Jason flicked another glance his way and he closed his eyes, hunkering down once more. Jason sighed.  
‘Look, Shoma…I’m not going to make you talk about whatever is going on with you and Yuzu, I get that that’s something private. But…you can tell me how much it sucks, you know. You can vent. I know you’re not big on talking…but you talk to Yuzu, right? And Yuzu isn’t here right now. So if you need to let it out…let it out. I can just listen – I know I talk a lot, I’m good at talking and terrible at knowing when to shut up…but…I can listen right now. There’s something safe about talking on a late-night drive, you know? Like everything you said might somehow disappear when the ride ends.’ Shoma opened his eyes just a little, peering out at the smudges of scenery beyond the window through his eyelashes – he felt numb again, everything inside quiet and muted, his energy somehow matching the lazy beat of the music.  
‘I’m running on fear and Red Bull right now,’ he mumbled, closing his eyes again and resting his head against the window with a sigh. ‘I’m not sure I should risk talking…I don’t know what might slip out.’ He played with the zip of Yuzuru’s jacket, pressing his thumb against it just hard enough for it to hurt. ‘I’m homesick for a house I never let myself live in, in case one day it burned down. Now I can smell smoke…and all the memories I didn’t make there are scratching my lungs…so I’m not sure if I really saved myself from anything after all.’

Jason was silent, his eyes still on the road ahead – Shoma could feel his guards slip in the muted light, something in the muffled tick-tock of the indicator and the swish of the windscreen wipers taking him out of himself. The bass beat from the speakers sent a low buzz along his skin, and he could feel the sensation of the raindrops casting patterns of shadow across his cheeks; he was somehow incredibly aware of everything in that moment, whilst simultaneously feeling himself drifting away from it, tugged by invisible strings towards the place where Yuzuru’s lightning ebbed and dwindled. ‘If you could see into the future, would you want to? Would you risk it?’ Jason tipped his head.  
‘I don’t know. I’d never really thought about it, you know?’ He flicked a brief glance Shoma’s way. ‘What about you?’ Shoma sighed.  
‘I used to think I would. I used to wish that that was my power instead – to be able to just…look, to see how things would work out if I let myself choose them.’ He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut and shook his head. ‘But now…I’m not so sure. I’m getting tired of holding my breath and always waiting – I’m tired of shutting down because I think bad news is coming and never getting to enjoy the time before. If I had the answers, the proof that I was right and everything just ends…what would it solve, really? I’d still be living for a moment out of my reach instead of for the moment I was actually in; always missing the sunrise because I’d got proof it was only going to set again anyway.’ He huffed, pulling Jason’s coat more tightly around him. ‘Nothing lasts forever…except maybe the stories, the stories and that imprint of feeling a good story can leave on a place, you know? Like when a song plays or the smell of blossom comes in off the breeze and somehow…everyone just…knows what happened there before. Sometimes you can wait for answers, sometimes you have to. But sometimes…maybe you just have to live. That’s the only way to make a story, right? And once you’ve lived a good story – it’s yours, no one can take it away from you, not even the fact it’s ended changes that. Maybe it’s the only way of having any hope of making something last. I thought I was protecting myself from losing something, but now I know that if the sky’s going to fall in anyway…it’s just a hollow victory to be proved right without ever having dared look up to see all its colours.’ Shoma blinked his eyes open and took a shuddery breath, looking down at his hands. ‘I should’ve stayed. I should’ve held on. I should’ve just…hoped.’ He pressed his tongue against the coppery crack in his bottom lip. ‘I mean…what if this storm doesn’t pass? What if this lightning strike is the one that finally overwhelms the lightning in him and…clips his wings for good? I will have wasted so much time on…saying the sky was falling…when until now? It wasn’t. And I could have seen so many more colours in the clouds.’

The quiet stretched out between them, and Shoma felt his words settle, weighty and strangely calm, under the shimmer of the raindrops and the haze of streetlights overhead. Jason tapped his fingers along the steering wheel again, his drumming ever so slightly mistimed against the faster-paced track that the radio had shifted into somewhere beneath Shoma’s ache of a confession.  
‘You know, before I came to the Foundation? I was actually a lot like you. Always wanting to stay close to what I knew, always waiting for things to play out and give me some kind of reassurance that it was going to be ok. It’s not wrong to prefer familiarity – the problem comes when…you know the change is the only option and you have to decide whether to move with it or dig your heels in and let the world pass you by.’ Shoma looked over at Jason with dark, shining eyes, studying the calmness of his features and taking comfort from the matter-of-fact gentleness in his tone. ‘I’m super-close with my family, so…coming here? It was a leap. I put it off for as long as I could, waiting for…something, I don’t know what. A push, a different option? I honestly didn’t have the answer. And then one day, after maybe like a month had gone by and my invitation was still sitting on our kitchen table, my dad and me were out walking and he told me that…sometimes we don’t know what we’re waiting for: a sign, an answer, a Plan B, who knows, you know? And those times are usually when the universe is trying tell you to throw yourself in head first. The answer isn’t coming – so go dance to your favourite song or tell a friend an awful joke, go take a risk on some opportunity that might not come around again. You know…I can’t promise you it’s going to be ok, Shoma. I can say what everyone else keeps saying: that it’s Yuzu, that he’s a fighter, that he’s a cat with nine lives and he’ll be ok because he’s always ok. But it doesn’t change the fact there’s the other option – the chance that he just…got pushed too far this time and, even though he’s lightning? He’s always been delicate, and something maybe…finally had to give.’ Jason sighed, heavy and sad and more immensely weary than Shoma had ever known him sound before. ‘But worrying about it, dreaming up all these worst-case-scenario outcomes? It’s just another form of waiting, Shoma – another way of holding off from taking the risk and…letting yourself hope.’ Jason finally looked over at him then, meeting his gaze with the softest of smiles and lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘I think you need to throw yourself into the crazy thing, Shoma, you know? To take your own advice and just live in this moment of totally wild, unfounded hope. Try and believe that it’s going to be ok and put all your energy into trying to make that wish come true. If you don’t want to know the future? Then stop looking to it for answers. Get on the dancefloor, breathe deep and know that, whatever happens? You made this story as brave and as wild as you could, whether it works out how you want it to or not. Give him all the faith and belief you have, because maybe the magic of that? Is exactly the fuel the universe needs to make this borderline impossible thing something…possible, against the odds.’ Shoma slowly turned his body, the fabric of Jason’s coat giving a soft rustle as he angled himself slightly, a mussy-fringed frown crossing his features.  
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have faith in him,’ he stated simply, and a gentle, shiny-eyed smile slowly curved at Jason’s lips as he gave a small, sceptical nod.  
‘Ok.’ He cast the briefest of glances Shoma’s way, and Shoma tipped his head enquiringly, giving him a sleepy blink. ‘Or…’ Jason bit his lip, wincing as though in apology. ‘Had you thought that maybe you _would_ still be here if…you loved Yuzu? If you were _in love_ with him?’ Shoma swallowed and looked out of the window, resting his head lazily back against the glass with a gentle sigh. Jason was looking over at him curiously, but he tried to pretend he wasn’t, tried to lose himself in the cold, winding paths of the raindrops as they bled the colours of the scenery together before his eyes.  
‘But maybe that’s the same thing,’ he let out in a rough whisper. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes. ‘Maybe for me…I can’t do one without the other.’ Jason stared at him for a beat, eyebrows raising just a little before he turned his head back to look at the road with a slow nod.  
‘Oh,’ he said, and Shoma’s lips twitched into a vague smile.  
‘The words go away when the ride’s over, right?’ he asked, biting nervously at his lip, and Jason flashed him a sweet, sympathetic smile.  
‘Sure, if that’s what you want.’ He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and wrinkled his nose in a gentle, consoling expression. ‘I can’t make any promises about the feelings though,’ he added, and Shoma let out a huff of a laugh.  
‘That’s ok.’ He sighed. ‘You can’t change the road you’ve already taken, right? You just have to…be brave and face the route ahead with what you’ve learned…even if you’ve learned things about yourself you didn’t think were possible.’

Shoma had fallen asleep somewhere along the dark, winding coastal road that led up to the Foundation’s rocky outcrop; Jason had let him rest, covering him with some blankets from the back seat to keep him hidden as they ran the gauntlet of press who had gathered on the edge of the exclusion zone the Foundation had put in place since the news about Yuzuru had broken. Shoma was grateful of the acceptance and the chance to recharge; he was still battling the weight of his own exhaustion as it combined with the leaden-limbed feeling of Yuzuru’s fight for oxygen amidst the staticky-thick air at the edge of the Grey Zone. His centre didn’t run cool and razor sharp the way Yuzuru’s did; it burned hot and intense, its edges uneven and messy. It was just as focused as Yuzuru’s power, though, and still liable to flare when provoked – he and Yuzuru were, as always, different but the same, and Shoma finally realised just how equal their footing was, felt the delicate balance of their perfectly-matched talents for danger and force. Yuzuru had seen it – felt it – the moment he’d sensed Shoma’s presence at the Foundation gates; he’d known it with such clarity that Shoma had feared it was somehow something Yuzuru had simply created through his own sheer determination. But as he stood in the freezing night air, staring up the slick black shadows of the Foundation buildings in the bleak knowledge that Yuzuru wasn’t there, Shoma realised the feeling was still his, the strength his own after all; in fact, he felt stronger, almost, now his power had such an immediate, pressing cause to fight for.

The sky was blacker than Shoma had ever known it, deep and fathomless as it hung over the Foundation buildings in heavy swathes of rich velvet; it made the stars look crisper, luminously white and unwavering, something piercing and knowing about the way they didn’t blink or shimmer like every other light did through the sheen of drizzle. Where usually the Foundation was ever-moving and busy, tonight there seemed to be no one around, and there was an eerie quiet in the air – even the sound of the waves was curiously distant, and the whispering breeze had vanished from the courtyard’s trees, leaving everything hauntingly still. Shoma’s breath misted out in front of him, and everything felt slow and hushed in the icy air – the Foundation was always something other, but somehow in the dark night time fog that clung to the clifftop, Shoma felt like the rest of the world was the unreal part, as though he and Jason had stumbled out of a dream and into the only piece of solid ground left. There was something hypnotising about the way the darkness played off the glass all around, and the usual watercolour hues that seemed to wash over the building that housed the mentors’ offices were replaced by a sticky film of oil and moonlight; it made Shoma hesitate, made the full weight of the situation close in on him in an instant, and Jason caught his shiver, noticing the wide-eyed sadness that suddenly overtook his face immediately.  
‘You’ve made it this far,’ he said gently, knocking his elbow into Shoma’s with measured kindness. ‘And trust me: Yuzuru Hanyu doesn’t light up every time your name is mentioned because he thinks you’re a quitter.’ Shoma let out a wet laugh and Jason flashed him a wink. ‘What? It’s true! Now come on: the sooner we go in, the sooner we find out if there’s any news, ok?’ Shoma nodded and Jason’s smile softened as he leant in to squeeze his shoulder. ‘Faith, Shoma. You have to be brave to give it – and braver still to give it even when you know the potential cost. But you? You’re _so_ brave, ok?’  
‘Actually? I’m just stubborn,’ Shoma whispered, closing his eyes and letting a faint, sad smile tug at his lips. ‘But I made it here. So I guess Yuzu was right after all – those things really are just one and the same.’

Shoma had to squint against the buzz of the brightly-lit corridors as they made their way inside, the harshness of the artificial light a shock to his senses that sent a prickle of static through his system; inside he could sense the powers of others creeping in, and there was an undercurrent of barely-constrained worry making its way through the air, mixing with the weak, wet feeling of Yuzuru’s thunder at the edge of his consciousness and making his feet scuff and stumble slightly. He blinked, rubbing at his eyes and flicking his hair from his face, hoping to disguise his sudden dizziness so as not to worry Jason – he had no way of explaining that the feeling wasn’t entirely his own without giving away more about his power than he wanted.

‘Shoma!’ Shoma was startled out of his stupor by the sound of two warm voices calling out to him from somewhere on the landing up ahead, and he looked up in mild confusion, just in time to see Mai and Kaori come hurtling down the ramp towards him. Mai reached him first, colliding with him in a soft thump of strawberry perfume and wet relief, and a fraction of a second later Kaori joined her, crashing into his other side with similar enthusiasm and squeezing him unexpectedly tight.  
‘Hi,’ Kaori mumbled against him, wet and almost laughing, and Shoma smiled slightly.  
‘Hi,’ he said back, bewildered and rough.  
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ Mai sniffed against his shoulder, and instinctively he moved to hug her back. ‘I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I feel like we should all be together right now.’ She pulled back just slightly, looking up into his face with a watery smile. ‘It’s stupid, I guess,’ she shrugged, giving a self-conscious roll of her eyes, and Kaori looked over at her with a reproachful frown, reaching across to smack her shoulder lightly.  
‘It’s not stupid,’ she insisted, something suddenly fierce in her. ‘We’re worried about someone we all care about and we have no idea if people are out for the rest of us too – of course we want to be together and know Shoma is safe.’ Mai gave a small, unconvincing nod, resting her head against Shoma and squeezing him slightly. Kaori looked back at Shoma with a small, soft smile. ‘We really are glad to see you, Shoma. It’s good to have you here again,’ she said, sincere and gentle, and Shoma smiled back at her, giving a vague bob of his head in acknowledgment and looking down at Mai somewhat cautiously, concerned that she still seemed to be shivering a little against him.  
‘I’m ok,’ she insisted with a damp, caught laugh, shaking her head and brushing at her eyes as she straightened a little, and Shoma raised his eyebrows. Mai’s eyes were pink-rimmed and puffy from too long spent crying, her face pale and her fringe unusually mussed. Kaori’s eyes were a little brighter in comparison, but Shoma could sense the tight knot of nerves just beneath her surface, and he knew she was worried too. Silently he lifted his hand, pressing his fingers gently to Mai’s forehead with measured calm, infusing the touch with the softest blush of healing, and Mai blinked in surprise, letting out a soft, wet gasp as the tears on her cheeks disappeared. Shoma offered her a small shrug.  
‘You looked like you needed a break,’ he told her with a sheepish shrug, and Mai’s lips twitched up at one corner as she nodded.  
‘Thank you,’ she said, her smile turning shy. ‘Yuzu has always been kind to me. I want to help him…but I can’t.’ Shoma’s lips curled just a little, his smile sad and understanding as he gave her a nod.  
‘Yeah. I know that feeling,’ he admitted. Kaori reached out to give his arm a squeeze and Shoma looked down. ‘I feel like I should be doing something…but I don’t know what.’  
‘We all feel it, Shoma,’ Kaori told him kindly, and Shoma nodded again, unable to explain the sheer weight of uselessness he felt.  
‘It’s ok – you’re here with us, now. That’s helping: that’s putting all this good energy into the universe for Yuzu to draw on, right?’ Mai put in, leaning in for another hug, and Shoma puffed out a soft laugh, sniffing and closing his eyes so he didn’t cry.  
‘You’re made of candyfloss, you know that?’ he told her dryly, giving her a gentle, grateful squeeze and smiling slightly when she burrowed closer. Kaori caught his eye, offering him a warm smile of her own and leaning against his other side.  
‘Seriously, even if you’re being mean to us? That’s helping. It’s like…pretending to be normal makes it seem less terrifying, you know?’ she told him. ‘You’re the best, Shoma. You’re dumb, but you’re the best.’ Shoma laughed, dull and fond as he wrinkled his nose.  
‘I’ve been here five minutes and you’re insulting me already?’  
‘Welcome back, I guess,’ she sing-songed as she and Mai pulled back and flashed him matching mischievous smiles, and his lips twisted into a reluctant smirk.

As the girls stepped away, Shoma finally looked up towards the landing beyond, casting his eyes around the ramshackle, exhausted group of people who were gathered there, half of them still staring up at the TV screen mounted on the wall which was tuned to some international news channel, whose coverage for the night had been taken over by the story of the new Grey Zone and Yuzuru’s apparent disappearance. Shoma’s throat felt rough and dry, and he closed his eyes, just for a beat, reaching out in bands of gold and tugging insistently at the faint spike of lightning which flickered up to great him. He was still awake then. _Thank goodness._

Shoma jumped slightly as he felt Jason patting him consolingly on the back, and he opened his eyes, refocusing on his surroundings.  
‘Any news?’ Jason was asking as Satoko came towards them, her usually ever-calm face pale and her dark eyes shining. She glanced at Shoma in that way of hers that expressed more than words ever could, her lips twitching into something which couldn’t quite be called a smile but was somehow infinitely comforting anyway, and Shoma offered her a nod of greeting. She flicked her gaze up to Jason, giving an almost imperceptible shake of her head before looking back at Shoma and reaching out to take his hands in hers.  
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, and Shoma frowned slightly, spent and uncomprehending.  
‘Why? You didn’t kidnap him and bundle me on a plane back here…I hope,’ he said automatically, and she let out a choke of a laugh, hitting his arm and rolling her eyes.  
‘Shoma!’ she sighed, tipping her head back with another gentle laugh before looking up to Jason again with a sweet, amused smile. ‘Has he been this blunt the whole drive back or are Team Japan just special, huh?’ she asked, and Jason grinned.  
‘Shoma is Shoma,’ Jason shrugged. ‘Isn’t that what Yuzu always says?’ Satoko’s smile gentled, and she looked down, humming lightly.  
‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ She tried to shake the heaviness from her features, shivering just a little before looking back at Jason once more. ‘The only news isn’t good news, honestly: the Alliance have released their security footage, but they have been so selective it makes Yuzuru look terrible. They show him starting fires but not why – and apparently no matter how hard Brian chases, the hotel insist they have no footage of him leaving his room, by force or otherwise.’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘The Alliance are putting their version of events out there and preventing us from giving Yuzu’s. Our only hope is…’ She trailed off, looking hesitantly in Shoma’s direction. ‘If the note he sent you was clear enough that Brian can convince the Japanese ministry to send a search party and recover him? Then Yuzu will be able to make his own case – and whilst the media and governments may choose to believe whatever most suits them in a moment, Yuzu can always convince the people to be on his side. Making people believe in things – even those who had thought they’d lost all hope – is his greatest power.’ A ghost of a smile briefly crossed Shoma’s features.  
‘He made me believe in myself and come back here,’ he offered, and Satoko’s eyes twinkled.  
‘And that is something very powerful, right? Because you are the most stubborn of all.’ Shoma pulled a face and she laughed, leaning in to give him the smallest, quickest of hugs. ‘Thank you for coming here.’ Shoma closed his eyes and hugged her back, smiling a little as he smelt the familiar scent of roses and juniper.  
‘Where else would I be?’ he murmured, because he meant it and he felt it needed to be said, and Satoko squeezed him tightly, like she understood everything he was trying to communicate in the simple words and felt immense relief at hearing it.

As Satoko released him, Shoma’s eyes wandered up to the TV screen; old stock footage of Yuzuru was being shown, familiar shots of him nodding enthusiastically in conversation with Japanese ministers and frowning down at notes alongside Brian and Ghislain, scenes Shoma remembered from a hundred news reports before and which bore only the vaguest hint of the Yuzuru he knew. And then the images shifted – Yuzuru at seven years old, all round cheeks and innocence as he giggled his way through cheap conjuring tricks for a crowd of cameras, Yuzuru at twelve gazing wide-eyed at a pushy interviewer and Yuzuru at eighteen being forced to celebrate his birthday in the middle of a stiff-suited summit. Yuzuru just a little over a week ago, laughing uncontrollably, his head thrown back for a moment before he flung his arms around a bewildered, smiling Shoma, half-shaking him and half-hugging him as he pulled the two of them backwards and away from the disbanding group of summit attendees at some photoshoot or other. Seeing Yuzuru’s brilliant, beaming face, the reminder of the delicate strength of his body close against his back and the tickle of his relentless laughter, deafeningly loud beside his ear – it was like a punch to Shoma’s stomach, and his lungs felt tight, his headache briefly forgotten in favour of the overwhelming, all-body thump of his own heartbeat. Satoko glanced over her shoulder, following his eyeline, and she winced, turning back to him and squeezing his hand kindly.  
‘Come on, come and wait with us – it will take your mind off it to be with friends right now, and it will take our mind off it to give you a hard time, huh?’ Shoma smiled slightly and Satoko gave a decisive nod. ‘Good. Come on then,’ she said, tugging his hand and pulling him gently over towards the group.

Although most of the faces were Team Japan, Shoma also spotted Misha and Evgenia standing off to one side, matching frowns of concentration on their faces as they stared down at some article or other on Misha’s phone screen. Jun was sitting on a chair outside a nearby office, his features knitted into a frown and his impossibly long body folded up double as he bit his nails to the quick and pretended to listen to whatever Nam was telling him from his seat beside him. A distraught-looking Boyang stood on his own, talking to someone on his mobile and occasionally breaking off to look up at the TV and wipe self-consciously at his eyes. Shoma supposed Yuzuru’s other friends must have set up a camp somewhere else, away from the TV screen and the cloying, palpable emotion hanging over Team Japan as they clung to and comforted each other.

Marin was standing with Mai and Kaori, the three wrapping their arms around each other in a complicated tangle, Wakaba was leaning against Keiji, Nobu, Mao and Kanako stood stoically together near the front of the group, Kazuki had drifted over to join Misha and Evgenia, and Daisuke and Takahito stood towards the back, whispering to each other with matching frowns on their faces – Satoko led Shoma through the bodies to join Keiji and Wakaba, Keiji turning towards them with a polite, tight-lipped smile and holding out an arm to Shoma which he gratefully leant into.  
‘You lasted one whole weekend without us, huh?’ Keiji asked lightly, and Shoma nudged him with his elbow, pulling a face and lifting his head just enough to shoot him the softest of glares.  
‘You people snuck into a laundry room to tell me you missed me, and I’m the one who can’t last without you?’ he protested. Keiji’s smile softened and he nudged Shoma back, shaking his head slightly.  
‘Let’s just agree Yuzu is the one who can’t last five minutes without us and roll our eyes at him for causing a scene just to get our attention,’ he muttered, and Shoma smiled despite himself, letting out a broken laugh and burying himself against Keiji’s side with more neediness than he wanted to admit to.  
‘Drama queen,’ he huffed, and Keiji laughed.  
‘Nightmare,’ he agreed.  
‘Headache,’ Wakaba chimed in.  
‘The actual worst!’ Nobu called across. Satoko laughed.  
‘Terrible, terrible attention seeker,’ she put in with a resolute nod, and Shoma shot her a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a smirk.  
‘Little brat,’ Mao smiled.  
‘So whiney, so needy!’ Kanako nodded.  
‘How can the Grey Zone keep him – it will be tired of his voice before sunrise,’ Wakaba agreed. Shoma laughed wetly and Keiji gave him another squeeze.  
‘Tired?’ he asked. Shoma nodded. ‘Hungry?’ Shoma nodded again. ‘Scared out of your wits?’ Shoma laughed and nodded, and this time Keiji nodded too, letting out a huff and looking back up on the screen. ‘Yuzu has a lot to answer for – you could sell your story to the press.’  
‘But I would never,’ Shoma whispered. Wakaba leaned forward just enough to shoot him a kind, gently mischievous smile.  
‘Of course not – you won’t have the time, you’ll be too busy dragging his ass all the way back here if he doesn’t show up of his own accord soon, right?’ Shoma smiled back at her, letting out a snuffle of a laugh and scrunching his face up dismissively. Keiji knocked against him.  
‘You can count on Shoma,’ he said firmly, and when Shoma shot him a sceptical look he rolled his eyes. ‘Shoma, you’re a mess. But you’re a tenacious mess. And you’d walk through fire for the people who matter to you.’  
‘And Yuzu _definitely_ matters to you,’ Wakaba nodded. Satoko elbowed him gently and Shoma turned to look at her, confused and expectant as she flashed him a knowing smile.  
‘If it helps, Shoma? I’d say you matter a lot to him too,’ she said, measured but sure, and Shoma’s lips briefly turned up into a lopsided smile.

‘…I believe in the power of hope, of course I do. I wouldn’t be at the Foundation if I didn’t think hope could make the difference between a future without colour and a future with it. But…sadly, sometimes? I feel I hope alone. I feel people losing faith in magic, forgetting how much power can exist even in a simple wish, you know? To have faith is to put energy out, to be given faith is to feel that energy become your wings – to be believed in? Is to be able to fly. I would like to know that feeling one day. I would like to be believed in against the odds – I would like to know how that magic feels, so I can remember just how powerful hope can truly be the next time it seems there is none left for me to give…’ Shoma lifted his head to look up at the screen, muzzily taking in the interview footage that had begun to play as the news channel’s feature on Yuzuru continued. Shoma felt his breath catch just a little as he saw him; it was as though every muscle in his body was being tugged on by the wistful smile on Yuzuru’s lips. He watched the way Yuzuru wetted them and sighed, his dark eyes shining with something faraway, a longing in them that Shoma recognised, because he felt it too. There was that want again, washing over him with sharp, insistent force, and he didn’t look away from the screen even as the story faded out and the picture cut back to the studio.  
‘But I believe in you, Yuzu,’ he let out in a low, rough breath, his voice croaky and caught. Satoko and Keiji both cast him worried glances, but Shoma barely noticed. ‘Does he know that?’ he asked, quiet and lost, and Keiji gave him a fiercely kind squeeze.  
‘Of course he knows, Shoma,’ he told him softly, and Shoma looked up with fuzzy distrust, glancing from him to Satoko. Satoko sighed and stepped a little closer, placing a delicate hand on his arm and leaning in.  
‘Why else would he have sent his note to you, huh? Unless he knew you believed in him the most of all?’ Shoma swallowed, glancing shyly down at his hands and twisting them together as he drew in a raspy breath.  
‘Because he-’ He wet his lips and shook his head. ‘Because we…because I-’ He huffed. ‘You know why,’ he finished, curt and wounded, and Satoko sighed.  
‘Shoma,’ she let out, her voice musical and despairing as she rested her head to his shoulder, and Keiji squeezed Shoma even tighter.  
‘He didn’t choose you because you kissed him, Sho,’ he said, firm and low, and Satoko gave a small nod.  
‘He chose you because of who you are – because of everything he thinks being Shoma means.’ She lifted her head to meet his eyes, her expression quiet and calmly insistent. ‘He chose you because he believes in you, Shoma. And because he knows you believe in him too. Don’t doubt that because he wavered in the face of an interviewer – trust only in what he gave you.’ Shoma closed his eyes and managed a small shake of his head.  
‘He wished me happiness. And meant it.’ He flinched just a little, turning into Keiji’s side. ‘But he believed in me so much he forgot to worry about whether I believed in him back. And now I might never get the chance to prove it.’  
‘Shoma,’ Satoko said reproachfully, and Shoma’s frown only deepened as he drew away from her protectively. Satoko sighed. ‘Now is not the time to lose hope, ok? Prove you believe in him by believing in the person he showed you he was, by remembering the person he showed you existed in you. And above all? _Fight._ Be stubborn, Shoma; it is your best and worst quality, and I am sure it is what first drew Yuzuru to you, because no one likes a challenge like he does.’ Shoma blinked dumbly at her for a moment before managing a small, timid nod of his head; he swallowed down the threat of tears and drew himself up just a little, allowing himself to feel the core of constant light that lived deep in his chest and letting his fight rise back to the surface as he sensed a brief spark of knowing lightning at his back. Satoko smiled like she felt it too. ‘Ok?’ Shoma bit his lip and nodded again.  
‘Ok.’

‘Alright: enough of this nonsense,’ Kanako suddenly burst out, swiping a rogue tear from her cheek and rolling her eyes as everyone turned to look her way. She gently shook Nobu’s arm from her shoulders and stepped forwards, turning to face them all with purpose and effectively blocking off the television from everyone’s view. ‘This is useless, ok? We’re standing here just watching them pick apart everything they think they know about Yuzu’s character so that they can stitch it back together in a different order and make it fit their lies and stories however they want to tell them. But…we already know who Yuzu is – he’s a nuisance and a terror and a pain in the neck most of the time, right? But he’s also our friend; our silly, delighted, useless friend who has always been there for us when we needed him, with the warmest heart and the loudest laugh and the ability to believe in almost anything being possible no matter how bleak the situation. And he is right, huh? Don’t you all think? Belief is magic. So we need to stop feeling hopeless and miserable and doing nothing but listen to a bunch of so-called experts parade through a studio talking about things they have no clue about, and instead just be there for each other the way Yuzu would be there for us. We need to help each other believe instead of listening to these terrible people who would have us stop believing in everything for the sake of a juicy headline for themselves. We need to put magic out, not just expect it to come to us.’ She looked at Shoma then, her expression gentle but pleading. ‘You know better than any of us, right? You’ve sat through his endless lectures and stories.’ She smiled, lopsided and fond as she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Nothing begins in an empty space – we need a spark.’ Shoma smiled slightly, giving her a vague nod and glancing down at his shoes with a sigh.  
‘He’s never going to let you live it down if he finds out you were actually listening to him all this time, Kana,’ he mumbled, flicking her a quietly wicked smirk, and Kanako laughed.  
‘Well good! I can’t wait to hear his annoying, smug voice teasing me again! I have spoken it into being: come and get me, Yuzu, I actually am immensely fond of you and could listen to you talk for hours if it wasn’t so fun to tease you. Do you hear me, Hanyu?! Get back here and torment me already!’ Kanako declared with a wet laugh, stamping her foot for effect and coaxing a chuckle out of Shoma.  
‘I think he hears you, Kana – I think people in Antarctica heard you, Kana,’ Keiji chuckled.  
‘Yuzu, come back to me so you can beat me up some more!’ Nobu chimed in, and Shoma’s face crinkled up in amusement.  
‘Now look what you’ve started,’ he said dryly to Kanako, and she stuck her tongue out at him.  
‘I didn’t mean to start us all shouting to the heavens,’ she pouted. ‘I just…I feel like we all want to do something, but we’re so useless at knowing what that we’ve ended up doing the worst possible thing, you know?’ She sighed. ‘We need magic – how can we make magic without Yuzu and his bright ideas, huh?’

For a few moments everyone was quiet, looking studiously away from the television but unable to quite meet each other’s eyes; Shoma pressed his tongue against the coppery taste of the crack in his lip and tried to pretend he couldn’t hear a reporter somehow managing to butcher the sound of Yuzuru’s name as she shouted it over the top of a growing rainstorm behind her.  
‘A Team Japan group hug!’ Kazuki burst out, enthusiastic enough to make Shoma jump. Kazuki was still smiling – earnest and hopeful and somewhat ridiculous – and Shoma tilted his head at him, curious and confused. Kazuki looked around at the bewildered faces staring back at him and rolled his bright, glittering eyes with gentle frustration. ‘Well it’s _something_ , right?!’ he shrugged, looking over at Kanako expectantly, his mood still apparently buoyant despite everything.  
‘I suppose…’ Kanako ventured slowly, her expression amusingly hesitant as she found herself caught between confusion and a desire to not do anything to damage the absurd, magical smile that had lit Kazuki’s face all of a sudden.  
‘Oh come on – has Yuzu never said that thing to any of you? You know, the thing about how a hug is like CPR for your emotions?’ Kazuki pressed, and Shoma tilted his head, frowning slightly.  
‘That sounds…violent,’ he muttered, and Keiji let out a puff of a laugh.  
‘Well it is Yuzu,’ he pointed out archly, and Shoma tried to smother his smirk, shooting Keiji a weak glare and elbowing him lightly in the side.  
‘If Yuzu were here right now, he would probably insist on hugging _someone_ ,’ Satoko said, thoughtful and slow, and Nobu nodded enthusiastically.  
‘Oh that is for sure – Yuzu will never shy away from a hug, and he gets violent when people he cares about are involved. I vote for Kazuki’s plan.’  
‘Why did I come back here?’ Shoma groaned, and Keiji shot him a dry smile, knocking their shoulders together.  
‘Shut up: you love it. You must do – you fell for Yuzu, after all.’ Shoma opened his mouth to protest but Kanako clapped her hands together before he could get his words out.  
‘I say that’s settled then – Team Japan group hug. And before you try and wriggle away, Shoma? It’s mandatory. On pain of me and Mao tickling you until you wish you had stayed in Japan.’  
‘Well that won’t take long – I already wish I’d stayed in Japan,’ Shoma shot back, sticking his tongue out at her, and Kanko pulled a face right back.  
‘Er, not to sound needy or anything…but what about those of us who aren’t Team Japan?’ Nam interrupted with a waggle of his eyebrows. ‘Are we invited or do we have to find a bunch of crazy people of our own to CPR our emotions back into shape?’  
‘Of course – everyone is invited! The point is to spread the happy,’ Kazuki said, his head bobbing like a puppy’s – it occurred to Shoma that this was how he was dealing with his fear, by trying desperately to turn it into positivity, and although he couldn’t relate, he admired it greatly.  
‘Today we are all Team Japan!’ Boyang put in, grinning toothily and clapping his hands, and Nam nodded approvingly.  
‘Excellent!’ he grinned, getting to his feet and rubbing his hands together. ‘I always like a little baseless positivity in the middle of a really crappy day,’ he said, coming over to join the core group and throwing an arm around Shoma’s shoulders, ruffling his hair and making him jump. ‘Admit it: you missed the total lack of sanity and personal space around here, right?’ he joked, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him slightly.  
‘Sure, because that doesn’t sound dumb and terrifying at all,’ he remarked, dark and dry.  
‘I thought dumb and terrifying was exactly your thing, actually,’ Keiji put in airily, and Shoma elbowed him so hard in his ribs he let out a low huff.  
‘Hey, Jun – get over here you wet noodle,’ Nam hollered back over his shoulder, and Jun blinked, his head jolting up as he was shaken out of whatever nervous daydream he had been lost inside.  
‘What’s happening now?’ he frowned, sounding almost as done and unimpressed as Shoma felt, and Nam simply rolled his eyes and beckoned him over with wild enthusiasm.  
‘Enforced and potentially violent affection in Yuzu’s name is happening,’ Shoma offered wryly, and Jun got to his feet, giving an absent, considering nod.  
‘Sounds about right,’ he shrugged, coming to join the rest of the group with a resigned sigh, as though there was nothing strange about the request at all.

As ridiculous as it was, Shoma had to admit there was something oddly reassuring about the untidy cluster the group formed into; the mess of powers colliding and energies mixing wasn’t as much of a headache as he expected it to be, and instead there was a sort of honest ebb and flow to it, like waves lapping gently from one person to another and back again before pooling somewhere in the centre of the group. Keiji was on one side of him, steady and calm as ever, his body still and his expression stoic, whilst Nam bobbed and vibrated to his other side, limbs all over the place and smile earnest, and the press of bodies was safe and protective, giving Shoma a strangely peaceful space in which to centre himself again and refocus. Where other people’s energies could sometimes make his power restless, this time it seemed to smooth out its edges, rounding it out and settling it, low and determined in the pit of his stomach – he didn’t have to ache so hard to reach out for Yuzuru, and, to an extent, he could use their energy to back his own, to give it the push it always needed so badly to bolster his sunlight just a little, channelling it Yuzuru’s way with greater ease.

‘Now what?’ Kaori asked as she and Mai closed the circle of bodies, and everyone looked expectantly from Kanako to Kazuki, who both simply shrugged.  
‘I didn’t really think that far ahead,’ Kazuki admitted with a rueful smile, and Nobu chuckled, ruffling his hair.  
‘This one is daft, huh?’ he sighed, rolling his eyes.  
‘Not as daft as us for going along with it though,’ Satoko pointed out, her eyes twinkling with faint mischief.  
‘Hey! It stopped us staring dolefully at the news, didn’t it?’ Kanako huffed. ‘I call that a success.’  
‘Also we all got a hug out of it,’ Mai said gently, offering a weak smile and shrugging somewhat shyly. ‘That can’t be a bad thing when we’ve all been so sad all day.’  
‘Depends on who you ended up stuck next to – Waka, I love you, but could you hold me a little less tightly? I can’t breathe!’ Evgenia laughed.  
‘Never! I’m hugging for dear life today,’ Wakaba insisted. Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Like you don’t always have the grip of a serial killer when you hug someone,’ he remarked, and Wakaba leaned around to stick her tongue out at him.  
‘Be nice, Shoma, or I’m coming for you next!’  
‘Please, Shoma! Save me!’ Evgenia joked, and Shoma suppressed a smile, his dark eyes twinkling softly. He had missed these people, he realised; as loud and loopy as they could be, they were also absurdly kind and accepting, they saw who he was and didn’t mind that he was obtuse and sarcastic, as long as he let them tease and fuss they didn’t begrudge him any of his idiosyncrasies.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of someone gently – but pointedly – clearing their throat, and everyone turned towards the other end of the landing, where the corridor wound around to the next floor. Shoma attempted to see through the bodies, but his view was mostly obscured by the jostle of Nam and Jun as they jokingly shoved at each other in front of him.  
‘I hate to interrupt…whatever it is you guys were up to…’ a gentle, lilting voice said with roguish amusement, and Shoma sank back from his tiptoes, not needing to see the voice’s owner to recognise him; the rough, warm tones of Javier Fernandez were musical and distinctive, and Shoma could sense the characteristic fire and honey of his energy from across the room. ‘Jason – you told me you had a delivery for me?’ Javier ventured, and Shoma peered around Nam’s shoulder curiously.  
‘Huh?’ Jason frowned, and Javier laughed, quirking an eyebrow.  
‘Small? Sarcastic? Japanese?’ he said, dark eyes sparkling. ‘Messy hair, kind of lost looking – any of this ringing a bell or do I have to tell Tracy you came back from the airport with amnesia rather than with Shoma?’  
‘What do you-’ Jason cut himself off with a small gasp, his eyes going wide and his grin turning sheepish. ‘Sorry, you totally lost me with the delivery thing.’ Javier laughed and Jason pulled a face at him. ‘Give me a break, it’s been a long day, ok?’ he groaned, offering Javier a shrug. ‘But sure, I picked up Shoma – he’s here, he’s just…not grown over the weekend,’ he said, pointedly pulling Jun out of the way to reveal a quietly glowering Shoma.  
‘I’m short but I still have ears,’ Shoma muttered, huffing in mostly feigned irritation as Jason apologetically squeezed his shoulders in a half-hug. ‘Also, my hair isn’t that messy…you see what you look like after a flight from Japan.’ Shoma was still attempting a scowl, but as he looked up at Javier he saw the profound sweetness in his dark, expressive eyes. His smile was incredibly fond, something kind in the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes as he tilted his head at Shoma thoughtfully.  
‘I’m guessing from this sunny attitude that you haven’t eaten, right?’ he joked, waggling his eyebrows, and Shoma pursed his lips. Javier’s expression shuttered just a little then, the light in his eyes dimming. ‘And you’ve probably had as little sleep as the rest of us also, no?’ he sighed. Shoma winced and looked down at his hands, biting at his lip. ‘Ok, maybe even less,’ Javier corrected wryly. ‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of worse news, but Tracy sent me to come fetch you – she’s in Brian’s office with him on video link right now, trying to convince the ministry that the person who has single-handedly increased private donations to their work by literal millions over the past ten years is worth the effort…and she thinks you could maybe help get the point across.’ Shoma frowned slightly.  
‘Me? Why?’  
‘Because we need them to realise that the information you gave about Yuzu’s whereabouts is solid enough that rescue efforts aren’t just some wild goose chase,’ Javier sighed, and Shoma felt something inside his chest go icy-cold and still.  
‘Why wouldn’t they just believe it?’ he asked, his voice annoyingly small and tight. ‘They know how powerful Yuzu is, they know what he’s capable of…they know-’ Shoma swallowed and took in a shaky breath, the air scratching at his lungs. ‘He’s been out there hours now expecting me to have made sure people are coming.’  
‘And they will, Shoma,’ Javier said firmly, stepping forward and putting his hands on Shoma’s shoulders. He dipped to try to meet Shoma’s gaze, touching a kind hand to his chin and offering him a tentative smile. ‘You have fight. Let them see it. Remind them of their duty and show them your certainty, and we will have Yuzuru home again in no time. I promise.’  
‘That’s a promise you can’t keep,’ Shoma said, soft and stark, and Javier winced. He hid it well, but Shoma saw it; the momentarily wounded look in his eyes, the brief flutter of his usually steady energy. ‘Yuzu wouldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep, you shouldn’t either,’ Shoma murmured, his voice softening, and Javier nodded slowly, looking down with a faint sigh.  
‘I know.’ He looked back into Shoma’s face, offering him a sad, lopsided smile. ‘But you can help me keep this promise, Shoma: by talking to the ministry. You tell them what Yuzu told you with just as much certainty as you spoke to me just now. It’s a start, at least, you know?’ He raised his eyebrows hopefully, and Shoma looked back at him in silence, his eyes heavy-lidded but thoughtful, their brown depths so dark they shone almost black as he reached inside himself for the calm, stoic core of steel he had always pulled out when cornered. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.  
‘Ok. I’ll come with you.’ Javier’s lips twitched into a fractional smile, his eyes lightening just a little as he nodded back at Shoma slowly.  
‘Ok. Good.’ He squeezed Shoma’s shoulders. ‘Thank you, Shoma. Honestly? I knew we could rely on you. You like to know the lay of the land before you act, but you’re not one to stand idly by – I doubt the ministry has been counting on that detail.’ He straightened, giving Shoma a small, reassuring smile. ‘Ministries can be tricky – but the Japanese ministry usually come down on the right side. They are stubborn, and sometimes cruel. But unlike my ministry? They’ve never accidentally disowned someone by misfiling the paperwork, and, when it truly comes down to it? They care about their people. Even when caring about their people has the potential to cause international fallout.’

Brian’s office was up on the top floor of the labyrinthine building, and Shoma and Javier had to wind their way past almost every other door in the building to reach it. Javier was unnaturally quiet – his usual jovial chattering and blithe, restless hand gestures replaced by a grey quiet, the muscles in his cheeks tensed and taught and his fingers drumming against his leg as his gaze flicked about everywhere except Shoma’s face. This close Shoma could feel the full force of his worry with more clarity, his anxiety so palpable it made Shoma feel somewhat unbalanced as he tried to keep it back from his own turbulent emotions and Yuzuru’s weak, wet lightning out beyond. Shoma supposed it was déjá vu for him, an unpleasant reminder of a memory he had never once wished to relive, and he wondered if he would feel differently if he’d been here the first time Yuzuru had vanished into a Grey Zone without backup, if he had a more visceral reminder in the back of his memory that Yuzuru had already used up at least one of his nine lives before.

Shoma was stirred out of his thoughts by the feeling of Javier’s elbow knocking gently into his arm, and he jumped slightly, blinking up at him with wide, owlish eyes. Javier wasn’t looking at him, his expression pinched and the shadows under his eyes painfully dark in the sallow light, but there was something in the way he leant in that held Shoma’s attention, that made him wait for the words he knew were coming. ‘You couldn’t have changed it, you know, Shoma. Nothing you did would have changed his mind once it was made up. And it was made up long before you left the Foundation. Before we had even left Malaysia, probably.’ Shoma frowned slightly, but he didn’t object – Javier still had words left in him, he could feel it, and he suspected it would do him some good to talk, to keep his mind occupied with Shoma’s troubles rather than dwelling on his own fears. ‘Yuzu could hold the whole world in the palm of his hand if he wanted to; he has enough people who would go to war for him, and he is probably powerful enough that he could simply force the rest to change their minds. He could tear up the rulebook and run the whole show his own way, if he chose: it would be easier for him that way, simpler, less dangerous.’ Javier shrugged, letting out a soft laugh that was somehow as exasperated as it was fond. ‘But Yuzu would never do it, you know? He doesn’t believe you really make progress that way. He wants to work within the system that is set before him – to play it and calculate with it as best he can…so that he can succeed despite it…just to prove to people that you can. To prove that you don’t have to break spirits to make people take notice of you – to show people that magic is possible even when the odds are stacked against you, if you just show enough care and enough fight.’ He flicked Shoma a small smile, his eyes shining with affection, and Shoma’s lips twitched up for a beat, brief but understanding. ‘No one will ever change him, no? No one should ever want to, I suppose. Although I admit, I do. Only sometimes, though…just for a moment or two when he’s being so stubborn and ferocious about something stupid or dangerous or crazy…or whatever else it is this week. But I do that because I’m not like you, Shoma; I don’t listen as carefully as I should sometimes, I don’t hear the things you hear because I’m always racing ahead into the next moment…and as much as I feel Yuzu to be one of my closest friends? I have never fully understood him the way you do. You know how much is bluff and how much is bravery, you know the difference between his smiles and can hear the words he doesn’t say, however few of them there may be. You are someone very rare, in that sense: someone who never has any desire to change people, someone who sees exactly who a person is at their core and simply accepts that they cannot – and maybe should not – be any other way. It’s why you have more friends than you know what to do with, I think. But it is also why you are so drawn to Yuzu – more drawn to him than even you want to admit sometimes, maybe, right?’ Javier’s eyes twinkled, his smile growing impish for a moment. ‘I’m not so blind as some people round here, and Yuzu isn’t as slick with hiding his emotions as he thinks. I know that you two are governed by your own laws of gravity around each other – a whole folklore of physics the rest of us aren’t allowed to know, yes?’ He arched an eyebrow, and Shoma looked down at his feet, his cheeks feeling hot. ‘In him you have found someone who has no cause to question who he is, someone as sure of himself as he is guarded. It is fascinating to you – because in that way he is both your equal and your opposite. Certain as you are certain, stubborn as you are stubborn…but fiercely unapologetic for it in a way you are not, so much. Outgoing and loud and boisterous. He is the equal and opposite to your action, as you are the equal and opposite to his – inextricably linked and always pulling on each other.’ Javier shook his head slightly, glancing away with a soft sigh. ‘Yuzu felt the strain in you when you went home, and he was not about to push you to breaking point just to get what he wants from a situation.’  
‘And what does he want?’ Shoma croaked, small and hesitant and ragged at the edges. Javier looked back at him with a breath of a smile.  
‘To not be alone…and for there not to be so high a price for those he cares about to pay for being close to him.’ Shoma flinched and looked down.  
‘But I left him alone.’  
‘No.’ Javier put a hand on Shoma’s shoulder, stopping and standing in front of him, his head bent so he could meet his eyes. ‘You never left him alone – you came when he called…and that he called at all? Tells me he never felt abandoned. The opposite, in fact; for the first time in his life? He felt as though someone had kept him so unquestioningly close that he could admit to feeling broken…and actually ask for help from them when he needed it.’  
‘It’s a nice idea,’ Shoma whispered, shaking his head slightly and turning away, squeezing his eyes shut and sensing for Yuzuru’s lightning, making sure it was still out there and taking comfort when he felt its it answer his call. ‘But I could’ve stopped all this. He’s been out there alone for so long…and if I wasn’t so useless, if my power actually did what it was supposed to…or what Yuzu thinks it could-’  
‘Shoma, you must listen to me, ok? Your power is the most honest power here, yes? It goes where it must and it works how it should – Yuzu knows this, Yuzu believes in this the same way he believes the sun rises every morning. If your power has chosen to answer his call a certain way, if it has chosen to be somehow quieter than you expect…Yuzu won’t hold it against you. The opposite, in fact: he will be in awe. He will say “How does Shoma’s power always just…know which path to take? How is it one person can be so very true?”, and he will believe, with all his heart, that things played out the way they were meant to.’

Shoma felt a bubble of air trap itself inside his throat, and he tried to swallow it down, to pull his emotions into some sort of order, but he was exhausted and overwhelmed and he had to blink back a fresh threat of tears. The way Javier said Yuzuru’s name made it into a soft, quiet thing, blunting the force of the blow. But it was still a blow, still a dull, wet reminder of how it was Shoma had ended up standing here. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, looking deliberately away from Javier’s knowing gaze and sniffing, brushing the corner of his eye with his cuff. He wished he still had Yuzuru’s jacket, but he’d had to leave it with Jason, stuffed in his backpack with the rest of belongings. So instead he was stuck with the coarser, less worn-in fabric of his own Foundation jacket; in place of the powdery-light cloud of bergamot, all Shoma could smell was a faint hint of coffee where he’d spilt some on his sleeve in the car. Somehow it made the ache of Yuzuru’s absence more intense, almost accusatory. Shoma ran his tongue along the cracked skin of his bottom lip and drew in a deep breath.  
‘I got overwhelmed. And I ran away. Yuzu never runs, even when the whole world keeps chasing him. I should’ve tried harder. I could’ve worked harder. I…I can’t stop feeling like it’s my fault. Like I let him down. Everyone tried to tell me and I didn’t want to hear it. I just wanted to go home – and that’s selfish. Yuzu doesn’t even have a home to go to, never mind the chance to run to it when things get scary.’ Shoma shook his head slightly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and letting out a weak, hiccupping sigh. ‘Just because Yuzu says it’s ok, it doesn’t make it ok: he doesn’t get to decide for me if I should feel guilty or not.’  
‘Shoma-’ Javier began, squeezing his shoulder kindly, but Shoma cut him off with a wince, curling back just enough to shake his hand away. Javier let out a heavy sigh. ‘Shoma,’ he said again, weary and warm as he stepped in closer, putting both his hands on Shoma’s shoulders once more and forcing him to face him. ‘You look at me, and you listen very close to what I’m about to say, ok?’ When Shoma still didn’t look up he smiled slightly, wry and fond and exasperated in equal measure, and he rolled his eyes, taking Shoma’s face in his hands with a soft laugh. ‘You know who you remind me of? _Yuzu_. When he first came here he never listened either – he just jumped on ahead and pretended nothing hurt him, never looking anyone in the eye for too long, just in case.’ Javier’s eyes glittered, and he shook his head slightly, looking down. ‘You are two stubborn things, you know that? Stubborn and fierce and…perfect for each other.’ Shoma frowned slightly and Javier pulled a face. ‘That wasn’t what I wanted to say, actually. But it’s still true.’ He shrugged. ‘What I wanted you to listen to was this: this is not your fault, Shoma. It’s not your job to save him from the world, ok? It’s your job to face the world with him – to be there when he calls. And you’ve done that, you know? You’re here. No matter how awful everything seems right now? You’re here, and that’s a start.’ Javier sighed again, a pained look briefly crossing his features. ‘Trouble has a way of finding Yuzu, you know?’ His lips twisted into a desperate smile and he turned his eyes skywards just for a moment, laughing slightly. ‘Maybe sometimes Yuzu goes looking…but…mostly? Trouble just…finds him anyway.’ His expression quietened then, and he met Shoma’s eyes with kind intensity, quirking his eyebrows knowingly. ‘But you know, Shoma: so do you. Find him, I mean. Always. You’ve been finding him since the day you first got here – and something tells me he won’t mind that he had to get lost one more time…if it means he gets to be found by you again.’

There was a thick quiet between the two of them for a moment; the slow trickle of raindrops running down the building’s glass was the only sound, as though everyone else had up and left just to give Javier’s words the most space possible to settle in. Shoma resumed biting at the skin of his bottom lip, and Javier looked at him thoughtfully, his hands dropping back to his shoulders. ‘You know…Yuzu and me? We had an awful, awful fight the night before you left. Nothing bad was said, exactly…it was just…bad timing, you know? Things were too fraught. I was still jetlagged from the summit and he was upset – I shouldn’t have started asking him about why he was letting you go, I should have just assumed he had his reasons and not tried so hard to wind him up. But I got ratty with him. I told him he should say something more to you; I don’t know what, just something which might have shown you more clearly how much it hurt him to see you go, just how scared he was he might never see you again and how terrible that thought was to him. I was mad at him for always going out of his way to martyr himself – I told him he was crossing the line between being kind and being foolish, between being selfless and self-sacrificing.’ Javier rolled his eyes. ‘It’s always a problem with him: too much is never enough in his mind, I don’t think. Maybe it never will be. But…in this case? I was wrong.’ Shoma blinked up at Javier, his eyebrows drawing together as he tilted his head.  
‘Wrong how?’ he asked, voice small, and Javier’s smile turned warm and full again as he let out a low chuckle, ruffling Shoma’s hair.  
‘The million dollar question,’ he said, folding his arms and blowing out a breath. ‘At the time I just admitted defeat and let him win – it’s easiest, usually, after all. But when Brian called to say you would be coming back, I think I finally started to understand. Because that night, when I was done calling him out and trying to get him to see what I thought was reason…he said: “Javi, no one can ever expect to ask the sun to rise earlier just because that suits their whims – it might make their life easier, but what about the sun? Instead it should just be enough to know the sun is out there, always, even when it isn’t seen…and to be grateful that its light will reach you eventually, when it is ready to be known. A sunrise is more beautiful because it must be waited for – because it only comes around in its own time, once you have sat through the dark to seek it out”. To him, that is how rare, how special you are – he wasn’t going to risk rushing you, because he wanted to see you shine in your own time. To your full potential. Not in some forced or frantic way, but simply…like the dawn comes, right? Slowly, but complete.’ Javier wrinkled his nose then, his smile sad and yet still somehow amused. ‘After that I let him cry himself to sleep on my bed and when I woke up the next morning he was all business again, like nothing had happened. He was on the phone plotting with Kana about something…and then the next time I saw him his jacket was missing.’ Javier met Shoma’s eyes again, raising one eyebrow in lightly teasing enquiry. ‘You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Shoma? Only…that jacket you showed up in tonight looked awfully familiar…’ Shoma felt a low, hot blush begin to creep along his jawline, and he let out a faint groan, looking down in an attempt to hide the beginnings of a smile.  
‘The morning I left…Kana wouldn’t stop bugging me to come have breakfast with her. She kept saying we were running late, so Satton practically dragged me out of the room to go meet her. Keiji said he’d finish getting my cases closed then join us.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Yuzu must’ve asked them to help him, I guess.’ Javier chuckled, nodding slowly.  
‘I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet,’ he agreed, tipping his head to one side and looking Shoma up and down for a beat, dark eyes sparkling. ‘When it really matters? Yuzu will always reach out to his friends.’  
‘But why did something small like that matter to him more than asking me to stay?’ Shoma asked weakly, and Javier pursed his lips, something in his expression growing quiet but still intensely knowing.  
‘Maybe because…that small, apparently throwaway gesture was actually telling you something more important…more complicated. Maybe his aim was less about asking you to stay and more wanting to…let you know what you would always have to come back to, if you chose.’ When Shoma’s frown only deepened, Javier let out a sound that was both a sigh and a laugh at once, shaking his head slightly. ‘Shoma, to Yuzu? You are stardust and moonshine and sunbeams – you are everything precious and golden. Almost nothing he says to you is as simple as what he is saying on the surface – remember that and you might just figure this whole thing out.’ He pulled a face then, lifting one shoulder in an idle shrug. ‘And there is something else you should consider, too: if out of all this mess, there comes a moment where you finally start to see all that gold he sees in you and put it to good use? Then in Yuzu’s eyes, none of it will have been in vain. He doesn’t mind getting a little broken – he is a master of putting himself back together by now. What matters to him is magic. And you. So don’t feel guilty, Shoma – just push forwards the way we all know you can…and be magic for him, ok?’ Shoma swallowed, his throat raw and dry as he stared up into Javier’s face for a moment, as though he could unpick the truth from the empty platitudes just by force of will. And then slowly, timidly, he nodded his head.  
‘Ok,’ he whispered, and Javier’s smile was wide.  
‘Perfect,’ he said, soft but sincere as he squeezed Shoma’s shoulder firmly. ‘Then we start now, with the ministry. Show them the Shoma we all know here: stubborn, sly…and full of heart. Make them see as clearly as you see – trust me, they could do with a little of that bluntness of yours. Don’t tell him I said this, because I will never live it down…but…Yuzu was right: you needed to be allowed to come back to the fight in your own time, to bring a readiness and a sureness within yourself you wouldn’t have had if you had been forced to make this choice too soon. And now it’s time to show just how much you belong, how right this choice of yours has become.’

Brian’s office was smaller than what many people might have expected of someone responsible for an organisation as large and influential as the Foundation, and it had never really been built to house quite as many bodies as were currently crammed into the space. Before they had even got through the door Shoma had been able to hear the abrasive sound of tired voices talking over one another in too-quick sentences, and instinctively he’d moved to hide himself a little behind the solidity and calm of Javier’s body. Javier had simply glanced back at him as he knocked, casting him a knowing wink before cautiously pushing the door open and peering around to study the scene for a beat, beckoning Shoma to stay close behind him as they ventured in. Usually there was something cosy about the space, as though some of Brian’s own warmth of character and almost-unending patience had ebbed out into the room over the years and become a part of it, but tonight the air was stuffy, an unwelcome hangover of too many bodies and too much sound hitting Shoma in a wave of unpleasant energy that made his skin hot and his head heavy. He curled in a little, hunching even closer to Javier and instinctively drawing back from the melee of voices as he blinked around at the scene in nervous assessment. High-ranking ministry officials, including someone Shoma was fairly certain was the Japanese government’s Minister For Power, were standing with a handful of mentors including Ghislain, Rafael and Mihoko, all gathered in a tense semicircle around a screen onto which the only-slightly pixelated image of a harried-looking Brian was being projected. All of them had stony expressions and folded arms, their movements clipped and their sentences interrupting each other as Brian looked from face to face with disappointed frustration. Only Tracy stood apart from it all, her expression softer, sadder than everyone else’s as she leant against Brian’s desk, her eyes on the floor as she took in the points being made back and forth with a faint wince – her energy was as gentle and warming as ever, but Shoma could also sense a tender wound in her, a thread of worry running through her that she was too kind to show in front of people she felt she needed to be strong for. Shoma felt the urge to go to her, to heal her, an instinct deep within his power being drawn to help those who needed it, like always – it pained him to know just how desperate she felt, just how difficult she was clearly finding it to hold out hope for Yuzuru. She must have been the one to see some of the worst of the damage done to him the last time, Shoma supposed – the only person besides him to even come close to being able to sense the true extent of the scars Yuzuru had carried inside for so long since.

‘…I’m just not sure you understand the cost of such an operation, Mr. Orser; and on the hunch of some kid? Someone whose power is entirely untested, except by the unreliable court of public opinion. In the face of the allegations being levelled at Hanyu right now, such spending will not look good without solid foundation.’  
‘And I’m not sure you understand the cost of letting the world lose someone like Yuzuru – which is what will happen if you don’t trust that “kid”, who, by the way, happens not only to be one of your people, but also one of your finest, who comes with glowing references from my entire team, Yuzuru included. Besides, this hunch you’re dismissing? It’s the only lead we have. And it comes from Yuzu himself, so we have a good-’  
‘Allegedly comes from Hanyu himself. There’s no evidence this Uno was in touch with him, though, and he wouldn’t be the first to attempt to manipulate himself into a position of importance by using a crisis.’  
‘That isn’t Shoma – and, frankly, it’s a highly unhelpful viewpoint to hold. It leaves us at a stalemate: you won’t trust your people, you won’t trust my people, you won’t trust the one person on the planet Yuzuru decided he could trust…and you won’t even trust Yuzuru himself. There’s no one left. Which means no search, no rescue-’  
‘And no Yuzu,’ Javier interrupted, making everyone jump and turn to look at the new arrivals to the room.

‘Shoma,’ Mihoko said in a gentle gasp, her eyes wide and apologetic as she realised what he must have heard.  
‘Javi,’ Brian said at the same time, his voice calm but warning. Tracy pushed herself up from the desk, putting her hands out in a peace-making gesture and looking between Brian and Javier with a pleasant, kind smile.  
‘Ok, alright, I’m sure Javi has dealt with more than enough diplomatic red-tape in his life to understand it doesn’t always account for emotions – this is a high-intensity situation and it’s not going to be made better by falling out amongst ourselves and letting things get fraught, right, Javi?’ she said calmly.  
‘I’d say sticking up for them not letting Yuzu freeze to death all alone on the outskirts of a Grey Zone was good cause for getting fraught, actually,’ Javier said, his features still darkened by a frown but some of the edge going from his words in the face of Tracy’s gentleness.  
‘No one is saying that that is a serious possibility – you walked in at a bad time,’ Tracy told him slowly. ‘There’s other options on the table besides the Japan-funded rescue, that’s just…the one preferable to us. But you know Brian and I, and everyone here…what we want is Yuzu back, and we’ll do what we have to to make it happen, ok?’ Javier pursed his lips and Tracy quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ok?’ she repeated pointedly, and Javier let out a defeated sigh, rolling his eyes and holding up his hands in surrender.  
‘Ok. I won’t jump to conclusions,’ he muttered, eyeing the Japanese minister with undisguised contempt. ‘But if you really think I’m just going to stand here and let anyone suggest Yuzu is better off left for dead? Then you shouldn’t have asked me to sit in on talks.’  
‘Javi, we invited you because you have worked in the very top levels of this organisation for several years now and shown great promise in mentoring – if you want to improve? You have to learn to control your emotions in a time of crisis, ok?’ Brian said, somehow kind in his warning, and Javier’s lips curved up as he glanced away in an uncharacteristic show of shyness. Tracy’s smile was knowing and fond, and she gave a small, pleased nod before turning her attention to Shoma, tipping her head to try and meet his eyes.  
‘How was your flight, Shoma? You doing ok?’ she asked, and Shoma managed a vague nod, bobbing his head and giving her a tentative half-bow. Tracy’s smile widened just a little, and she nodded back. ‘Good, I’m glad.’ She sighed, folding her arms again and regarding him thoughtfully, her smile slipping just a little. ‘I know this is a lot for you, and I’m sorry you had to walk in on all this without some warning – we’re just all over the place right now, and there’s not enough hours in the day to pull everything together how we want.’ Shoma nodded again, biting at his lip.  
‘It’s ok,’ he managed. ‘I’m ok.’  
‘It’s good to see you back, Shoma. Everybody’s missed you,’ Brian offered, and Shoma gave another small bow.  
‘Thank you,’ he mumbled, mostly to the floor, and Brian chuckled.  
‘Oh don’t thank me, I barely had time to miss you at all – Team Japan, however, didn’t stop complaining about it for most of the weekend.’ Shoma, to his own surprise, let out a soft laugh, cautiously looking up at Brian, who regarded him with twinkly-eyed warmth as he tipped his head slightly. ‘One member of Team Japan missed you more than the rest, perhaps,’ he added then, and Shoma sucked at his cheek to stop himself laughing again, though he knew Brian caught the sudden light in his eyes.

From the corner of his eye, Shoma caught the minister looking him up and down somewhat sceptically, something dissatisfied in his expression, and he sobered instantly, taking his time to assess the man in return, his eyes distrustful.  
‘If time is such a pressing issue, then perhaps we shouldn’t waste it reacquainting ourselves with wayward Foundation members,’ the minister suggested carefully, and Shoma felt a prickle of irritation needling at his edges, his jaw clenching just a little and a flare of light rising up in his chest quickly enough to stir some of Yuzuru’s lightning with it – if the situation hadn’t felt so tense, Shoma might have laughed at the indignant, instinctively protective way that thunder leapt blindly to fight beside him for a cause it could have no idea about.  
‘An interesting choice, considering it’s one of our most wayward members you came here to discuss,’ Brian said tersely, his expression growing somewhat pained. ‘But then, of course…you don’t seem all that keen on doing anything about Yuzu’s situation anyway, so maybe it’s not such a surprise after all.’ The minister sighed.  
‘I understand the reasons why you and your people are letting emotion rule you on this matter – and make no mistake, it is an emotional situation for us too. Many within my department have been working with Hanyu since he was a boy, watching him grow and learn, and we have had much pride in his successes, his many achievements for the Foundation and for Japan. For all of us he is someone we care about greatly and whose influence has proved invaluable to both the Foundation’s cause and the Japanese government’s – he has done much good in the world and has been a most valuable asset to the ministry and our Grey Zone efforts.’ Shoma flinched at the choice of words, and he noticed Tracy, Ghislain, Brian and Javier all react as well, the muscles in their faces tightening, and in Javier’s case a sour smile colouring his usually gentle face. ‘However, there is also another side to Hanyu’s profile and success – a side which has caused many complications for the ministry over the years. A side which can be dangerous, especially when so much is ruled by public opinion.’ The minister gave a small, considering tip of his head – like he was talking about the changing weather or who’d won in the weekend’s football rather than the sum of someone’s life. Shoma felt Javier’s energy grow stormier, and he pushed back against it just a little with his healing power; strong enough for him to feel easier, but gentle enough not to give himself away. ‘Hanyu has often been…a challenge, opposed to some of our suggestions for his conduct, always with so many ideas of his own. These rumours of deliberate fire starting, of Grey Zone creation…as ridiculous as they me seem to you, it is still important we consider how it goes across to the public. And it isn’t as though it would be the first time this young man has broken the rules.’  
‘No, Yuzu has never broken the rules,’ Ghislain interrupted, voice steely and certain. ‘Challenged protocols, tried to look at power in new ways, fought for training changes and different international dealings…favoured Foundation ideals over ministry and media pressure – guilty, on all charges. But the only rules he’s ever broken were guidelines at most – norms and standards and outdated conventions, perhaps sometimes instructions from mentors…but never actual laws, never anything which could stand a chance of harming anyone. That’s not fair and you can’t put it on him.’  
‘His entire existence breaks rules,’ the minister shot back.  
‘No, his entire existence challenges our understanding of powers and uproots our pre-conceived notions,’ Brian said coolly, and Shoma’s lips twitched into an almost-smile. ‘Whenever he has challenged me, or your ministry or those around him? There has always been a reason. One irrational act from a kid who was seeing his home and people he cared about being destroyed by a Grey Zone’s sapping influence right in front of his eyes is not a rule break – it’s a cry of pain from someone who wasn’t allowed to express it any other way. And I will not let you hold that against him now.’  
‘Yuzu learnt from that incident, he grew from it,’ Tracy put in, her voice laced with enough feeling that Shoma had to close his eyes against it. ‘And he paid a price for it too, I can promise you.’ Shoma shuddered slightly and turned his face away.  
‘Price or not, it speaks to form,’ the minister replied, and Javier let out a bark of a laugh.  
‘It speaks to form? But none of his philanthropy, his years of working himself into the ground for official functions and summits, his countless friends from all manner of walks of life…none of that speaks to form?’  
‘Press conferences with a little too much honesty, ministry memos ignored, advice constantly challenged – he is stubborn, and he has played his own game many times before without consulting us first. It’s enough of a record for us to need more reassurance; Hanyu has always been wilful and difficult, that clearly hasn’t changed.’  
‘You know, if you can’t think of anything nice to say? Maybe you should get Yuzu’s name out of your mouth right now,’ Javier shot back.  
‘Javi,’ Brian sighed, part plea and part caution, and Javier pursed his lips.  
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he huffed, sounding so far from apologetic that Shoma and Tracy both found their eyes meeting as they tried to hide their nervous amusement. ‘I just find it interesting how you are so worried about spending money on searching for Yuzu because of his supposed reputation…yet you never had any objections to cashing the countless cheques his profile and his hard work brought your ministry, your whole country. Funny, how things can change when someone asks you to spend some of that money on him for once.’ Shoma’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced between Javier and the minister for a moment before looking back at Tracy, whose expression was a curiously fond grimace.  
‘Javi,’ she managed in a gentle hum, and Javier puffed out a frustrated breath, shaking his head slightly and looking up at the ceiling in an effort to keep his emotions in order.  
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…’ He sighed and looked over at Tracy with a helpless expression. ‘It’s Yuzu, you know?’ he said, a crack in his voice giving him away, and Tracy offered him a small, understanding smile.  
‘I know. We all know,’ she sighed, before glancing at the minister with a smile which lacked all of her usual kindness. ‘Well, most of us know.’ Javier smirked and Shoma glanced away with a smile, whilst Brian pretended to be fascinated by his own hands.

‘Look, he says this, you guys say that – none of it fixes the problem at hand,’ Rafael said suddenly into the uncomfortable silence. He had the same look of intense concentration on his face as he always did, something vaguely disapproving in the set of his jaw and the lines of his forehead. But, to Shoma’s slight surprise, he could sense a rich, genuine concern in his energy, a level of compassion for Yuzuru mixed in there that had hadn’t expected. ‘I don’t agree with what the ministry are saying, but I can see the perspective – I can see the damage it is doing to Hanyu’s image to have nothing but the Alliance-approved footage of him starting fires and running…and I can appreciate what it might look like to lavish money on him right now.’ He shrugged, making an expansive gesture with his arms. ‘But this is why the US government’s solution is perfect.’ Shoma frowned curiously, flicking a glance up to Brian’s face; he was wincing slightly, shaking his head.  
‘Raf,’ he sighed, sounding more tired than annoyed, and Rafael shrugged again, waving a dismissive hand Brian’s way.  
‘What? What is the problem?’ He tipped his head from one side to the other as though considering a complicated calculation. ‘Look, you know how highly I think of Hanyu: I say “look at him starting those fires, this is bad for his image” but what I mean is “look at how he controls it, look how he uses it”, I don’t speak these uncomfortable truths with malice. That boy is a talent, and a good head and a good heart and good guidance from yourself? They have all made his power even stronger, I don’t deny it. But he isn’t always the PR darling: he is plain-speaking but he is also aloof, and the West? They do not always understand the subtlety of his skill. Nathan, on the other hand…’  
‘Nathan is an immense talent, I’m not denying it, but the US plan is a PR stunt to attempt to elevate him above Yuzu somehow, as though there are even rankings for these things – and it takes no consideration of the sheer level of danger going to a new Grey Zone would be putting him in.’ Rafael made a vaguely disgruntled noise, but Shoma could see in his expression that a part of him accepted Brian’s argument. Brian rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Look, I just…I’m not comfortable with sending another one of our kids into the eye of the storm. We’ve already lost Yuzu today, I don’t want to have to work out how to rescue Nathan too.’ Rafael pursed his lips.  
‘His shields are strong – we’ve been working at him using them in extreme conditions and he is thriving.’  
‘But everything is weaker in a Grey Zone; I’ve never seen any shield that can hold in one,’ Ghislain said with a sad shrug, looking down with a pinched frown. ‘Even Yuzu’s…and believe me, I’ve worked on extremes with him that most people’s shields would never have matched. But a Grey Zone is a whole other level.’ Shoma tilted his head slightly, taking in the information for a moment; he knew for a fact his shield in the forest had held, could feel it even now and could sense Yuzuru using what little power he had left to top it up – the combination of their powers was some kind of counterbalance to the sapping intensity of the Grey Zone, he supposed.  
‘Look, Raf, I appreciate your argument, and honestly I…I’ve been giving it a lot of thought. It’s noble of Nathan to even consider agreeing to it, and I want you to pass on my gratitude to him, because he has been incredibly gracious in the face of some…pretty intense exchanges of words from the US side regarding their views on Yuzu. But honestly? My nerves can’t take another one of our kids going in there. I think I’d rather explore the private funding route…I just wish it didn’t take time. Time we…probably don’t have, honestly.’ Brian sighed again, somehow managing to look immensely frustrated and on the brink of tears at the same time.

Shoma swallowed and closed his eyes, taking a moment to focus on nothing but Yuzuru as the intensity of his own emotions combined with everyone else’s threatened to overwhelm him.  
‘Shoma,’ Tracy’s gentle, tentative voice coaxed Shoma into blinking open his eyes, and he looked at her with an open, hesitant expression, his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide as she offered him a quietly reassuring smile. ‘I don’t suppose there is anything else you remember? From the butterfly note?’ For a moment Shoma was uncomprehending; it was so long ago since he’d phoned Brian, the exact details of the half-lie of an explanation he’d given him to cover the extent of his power were something of a blur, and he’d almost forgotten they didn’t know he had actually seen Yuzuru with his own eyes, spoken to him and asked him for himself.  
‘The note you got was a butterfly?’ Javier asked, glancing at Shoma curiously, and Shoma gave a slight nod, wetting his lips as he drew in a shaky breath.  
‘Yuzu told me where he was in a note…explaining what happened, a little, and how to find him. He conjured it into a butterfly so it could fly to me – since, you know…my power makes his stronger, I guess.’ He shrugged self-consciously, looking down at the floor with a frown. ‘It disappeared, though. After I read it. So I just had to…try and remember everything.’  
‘I don’t suppose you remember anything else from the note? Nothing more has come back to you on the way over?’ Brian asked him softly. ‘Anything at all could be useful, Shoma, even if it seems completely irrelevant. You never know what could help us out here – because, honestly, without you? We’re flying blind.’

Shoma took an uneasy breath as he felt all the eyes in the room turn to him, and as the fog of everyone else’s energies closed in on him, he latched on to the one thing guaranteed to keep his head clear and his power steady inside: Yuzuru’s lighting, calling out to him, as though somehow Yuzuru knew he was needed. Shoma closed his eyes, taking another breath, deeper this time, and his features drew into a frown of concentration as he tried to cast his mind back to the clearing, to every detail of the precious moments he had managed to share with Yuzuru before his power of projection had been disturbed by Itsuki’s voice.  
‘I only know what I already told you,’ he said, slow and quiet, his ribcage tight. ‘I remember that he’s at the very edge of the Grey Zone…’ _The sound of Yuzuru’s soft, exhausted laugh._ ‘…I remember it’s a clearing in the forest…’ _His name said with a humming sigh._ ‘…but I know he is under a dense enough canopy to barely feel the rain…’ _Cold, insistent fingers gripping fiercely at his own._ ‘…I remember he conjured a ring of cherry blossom…’ _Messy hair in watercolour smudges across pale skin._ ‘…I know it’s every second tree or so, shedding petals with the breeze to be seen better…’ _Bergamot and jasmine and cherry blossom and wood smoke._ ‘…I also think there should be gold light coming from between the leaves, like stars…’ _Soft, curving lips pressed against his own._ ‘…I remember he told me they came for him…’ _The taste of spring._ ‘…I’m pretty sure he said they folded in on themselves, and that he thought the world might have done too…’ _Fingerprints dragging along the skin at the nape of his neck._ ‘…I don’t know how much longer he was going to be able to stay awake, he’d used a lot of power to find me and his lightning was weak…’ _Raindrops and lightning, foreheads knocking together and a tickle of breath on his cheek._ ‘…I remember he…he said they were trying to take out more than they put in…’ _Lean, fragile body and dark, determined eyes._ ‘…I think…’ Shoma swallowed and blinked his eyes open, taking a second to refocus on the room around him and slowly looking up to Brian’s expectant gaze. ‘…I think he said they tried to take him but…I don’t think he meant Snatchers…not…not exactly…’ Shoma huffed, frustrated with himself for only managing to get fragments from Yuzuru when he’d found him there. If he had just realised it was real, if he’d known it would be important… _he remembered the feeling of gold in his veins and sweeping ribbons and lips like April rain, he remembered lightning and whispers of sunrise and the rise and fall of strained breathing, a familiar heartbeat beneath his palm and paper planes soaring inside his ribs._ Maybe he’d known it was important after all, but what was important to him and what was important to everyone else were very different things. Shoma looked up Brian hesitantly, and Brian gave him a slow, thoughtful nod, his features creasing up into a frown of concentration.  
‘Trying to take out more than they put in – it’s a theory Yuzu came to me with before, but he had no proof…and we need proof to go forward so he intended to get it. If they found out…’ He made a vague gesture with his hand, wincing slightly and letting out a puff of breath. ‘This is an extreme measure to go to, but with the way they’re playing it…it makes a lot of sense.’  
‘You think Yuzu unlocked it? What’s causing the Grey Zones?’ Javier asked, eyes wide, and Brian shrugged.  
‘I think maybe he did…and if he hadn’t already? Whatever he saw after they took him would have confirmed it. So…they cut him off from help. And they’re painting him as the bad guy so that, if he somehow makes it out alive? No one will believe a word he or the Foundation says.’  
‘And the Alliance gets to continue as they please, only now with major political influence and many nations and media agencies on their side,’ Rafael nodded slowly.  
‘Neutralising Yuzu’s popularity would be a masterstroke – more important than neutralising his power, even…but…why do this? Why strand him, cut him off? Why not just make a media campaign?’ Ghislain asked.  
‘Because Hanyu has made himself a target by not leaving these matters to those higher up and better placed than him,’ the minister said, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him, his face crumpling into a scowl. ‘And that is if any of this story is true – you want me to believe some kid talking of continent-crossing butterflies made of paper? Hanyu is powerful, yes, but I would always have said he was also smart. To me? This doesn’t seem like the smartest plan.’  
‘And yet Shoma made it here, with all the information,’ Javier shot back, quirking an eyebrow. ‘I suppose you would rather Yuzu had made butterflies of money so he could fund his own rescue without putting you guys out so much.’ Shoma bit back a smirk, edging just a little behind Javier so as not to draw too much attention.  
‘Yuzu was sensible to reach out to Shoma: he is powerful and intuitive, and the media’s belief he has left the Foundation on poor terms with Yuzuru especially means he would not be expected to receive such a note,’ Mihoko put in, her voice soft and a pleasant smile on her face that didn’t quite match with the edge of warning in her energy as she looked over at the minister thoughtfully. ‘You are very keen to dismiss Shoma, considering he was someone you were so angry at us for letting go not long ago,’ she pointed out, folding her arms. ‘Make up your mind: is he your new media star or is he a child who must be silenced? Or did you simply underestimate him and now that he has shown himself every bit as quick and bright as Hanyu you wish to reconsider, in favour of someone more likely to toe your party line and smile politely in staged pictures, without ever kicking up a fuss when it is inconvenient for you to deal with some problem?’ Tracy stood up a little straighter at that, blinking as if in surprise and putting her hands out in front of her.  
‘Wait – that’s it, right? Ghislain wanted to know why not just go at him with a media campaign…it has to be because Shoma was becoming such a focus. Now, I suspect the media campaign has been something they’ve been working on for some time too, but think about it – who else have they been targeting with those stories lately?’ She raised her eyebrows expectantly, looking around the room. Shoma shrank back just a little, biting down on his bottom lip.  
‘Me?’ he said in a fractured whisper, and Tracy glanced at him, something concerned and gentle in her gaze.  
‘I’m afraid so,’ she sighed, looking back over at Brian. ‘They wanted Yuzu and Shoma separated, and preferably both away from the Foundation. That has to be part of this. Shoma makes Yuzuru’s power stronger, that much I know for sure. For whatever reason, their powers seem to recognise each other – we all saw it in Malaysia, and I’m sure the Alliance did too.’ Brian grimaced at the words.  
‘Of course,’ he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. ‘They want to act now before he gets any stronger. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this trip but-’ He cut himself off with a shake of his head. ‘Coulda, woulda, shoulda – there’s no point dwelling on the path not taken, it’s too far behind us. Right now the why isn’t important: Yuzu is out there, alone, and we want him back.’ He looked over at the minister, his eyes so painfully sad Shoma wasn’t sure how the minister didn’t feel any flicker of doubt in his opinions. ‘So, what are you going to do here? The Foundation is getting him out one way or another, the question is only whether or not we have the backing of your department to help us mobilise faster.’  
‘You want us to make a decision based on the words of some child who doesn’t have any comprehension of how much such a wild goose chase will cost?’ The minister looked Shoma up and down, and Shoma felt his fire flare inside, his expression stony as he stared back at the minister unflinchingly. The minister sighed and looked back over to Brian. ‘Besides, you want us to come to such big conclusions far too quickly: as I have made clear, we can only act based on facts, on what we are sure of – we have a duty to the Japanese people that goes above our duty to Hanyu. We need proof, evidence, something to go on to convince us this wasn’t something this boy made up in his head – he has certainly seemed away in the clouds often enough from what I have seen, and always suspiciously close to Hanyu, hanging off him and getting ideas…’  
‘That is not Shoma,’ Mihoko said plainly, flicking a glance Shoma’s way and offering him a small, comforting smile. ‘If you took the time to know him, perhaps, instead of judging him – if you were open to the way his mind works the way Yuzuru has been – then you might just see things differently, with fresher eyes. Better, in fact: you might learn to see with Shoma’s eyes. It is a beautiful world, that way; you can learn much, and perhaps find the faith in Yuzuru’s character which you seem to lack.’

As Shoma glanced away somewhat shyly, something on the desk behind Tracy caught his eye, and he frowned, tilting his head to try and get a better look. He stepped out from behind Javier, moving instinctively towards the desk then hesitating awkwardly as he realised everyone in the room had turned to look at him; he flicked a glance Tracy’s way, a brief moment of uncertainty crossing over his features.  
‘Is…is that…’ He blinked, looking back down at the desk as his forehead creased once more. ‘That’s Yuzu’s phone, right?’ he asked, and Tracy looked at him uncomprehendingly for a beat before looking behind her, following his eyeline and letting out a small gasp.  
‘Oh.’ She nodded slightly, picking the phone up and looking down at it with an uneasy frown. ‘Yes, it is actually,’ she nodded, giving Shoma a sad smile and lifting her shoulders in a helpless shrug. ‘It was found on the ground outside the Alliance’s research building but…none of us can unlock it.’ Shoma wet his lips, swallowing hard and trying to gather his courage.  
‘Can…can I have it?’ His voice was little more than a whisper, but Tracy must have seen some hint of his determination in his eyes, because she handed the phone over immediately.  
‘Of course,’ she said gently, looking him up and down in consideration. ‘You know the passcode?’ Shoma blinked up at her, wrinkling his nose in mild confusion.  
‘Yeah…why? No one else does?’ He turned, looking back at Javier, who shook his head.  
‘Yuzu guards that thing with his life,’ he said quietly, his dark eyes seeming to regard Shoma in a new light. ‘His whole universe lives on there – his theories, his memories…the people he holds closest. He won’t even let anyone make a call on it unless he can put in the number and have it back straight after. I didn’t think he would ever-’ Javier closed his mouth, a bewildered smile touching his lips as he shook his head slightly. ‘Like I said before, I guess: moonshine, stardust, sunbeams,’ he murmured, eyes twinkling knowingly at Shoma, whose lips twitched into a timid smile as he shook his head and looked down at the phone in his hands.  
‘It’s probably just Itsuki’s fault…whenever my phone runs out of battery he just…starts talking to me on Yuzu’s without stopping for breath.’ He wrinkled his nose, shrugging. ‘It doesn’t leave Yuzu with much choice.’ Javier hummed.  
‘Your smile would say differently,’ he remarked. ‘And also: it’s Yuzu. Believe me, if he wanted to? He absolutely would’ve blocked your brother’s number and told you to go find your backup battery.’ Shoma pursed his lips, eyes briefly alight as he quickly turned his attention back to the phone, running his finger along a small scratch that definitely hadn’t been there before.  
‘That’s going to piss him off so much,’ he muttered, rolling his eyes affectionately before blowing out a breath and tapping his thumb to the screen. His smile softened slightly as the lockscreen image lit up in front of him; the Singapore skyline at dawn, light creeping across the white hotel sheets, a hint of an elbow just visible on the furthest edge of the shot that Shoma knew was his. ‘He’s so dumb,’ he said under his breath, blushing slightly as he realised Tracy was actually close enough to hear. He looked up at her and she flashed him a conspiratorial smile, winking at him and making him blush before he tapped the screen again, shaking his head as he quickly typed in Yuzuru’s code.

Yuzuru’s phone unlocked onto his camera, and Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, instinctively moving to check what the last thing on his camera roll was; an uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach as he realised it was a video, the still frame on the screen too blurry for him to be certain but a strange knowingness coming over him all the same. ‘He’s dumb but he’s also pretty smart sometimes,’ he murmured, looking back up at Tracy, who seemed to pick up on his sense of trepidation immediately and stepped closer, placing a kind hand on his shoulder.  
‘What is it, Shoma? What did you find?’ Shoma sniffed, looking back down at the screen as he tentatively pressed play.  
‘I don’t know for sure,’ he said, voice scratchy and low. ‘But if I had to guess? I’d say it was the moment he realised what they were trying to do.’ He tipped the screen towards Tracy, looking down at the video and grimacing in pain as a blur of motion was replaced by Yuzuru’s desperate face and the sound of heavy breathing.  
‘What is it?’ Brian asked, and Tracy flicked him a brief glance before turning back to the screen with a pained look, shaking her head slightly.  
‘That boy,’ she sighed, laughing sadly and putting a hand over her mouth as she watched Yuzuru throw the phone down then turn to struggle against someone’s grip, the angle not quite allowing them to make out faces. ‘He actually managed to leave us a clue,’ Tracy murmured. As the video continued, Yuzuru managed to twist his body enough to fling out a hand, sending one of the two people holding him flying with his power. In the moment of shock this caused the second figure, Yuzuru managed to turn and click his fingers, freezing both of them in an instant before running over to pick up the phone. Shoma felt his breath catch; his face was flushed, a scratch on his chin bleeding and his hair in a mop of black that fell into his eyes – his dark eyes were more frightened than Shoma had ever known them, but still shining with impossible defiance, some endless storm inside him refusing to give up. He felt the ache of the bruise in his chest again, longing pressing down on him and making it hard to breathe. Onscreen behind Yuzuru there was the sound of voices, a blur of movement, and he looked over his shoulder briefly before he turning back to the camera, suddenly steely. ‘Find Shoma, find me. He will know how.’ Shoma flinched as the statement was punctuated by a sudden, soft yelp of pain as someone behind Yuzuru made a grab for him – with a sharp flick of his hand, Yuzuru quickly sent the phone flying, pushing it out of view and out of the minds of those pursuing him with such force the rush of air made the microphone crackle. The video cut out a second later to the sound of a dull thud and one final whimper from Yuzuru. Shoma closed his eyes and turned away.

There was a heavy quiet in the room as everyone took in what the video meant; Shoma couldn’t say if it lasted one minute or ten, time stretching out too far and not far enough, somehow. A part of him wanted to curl up right there – to shut out the images and the sounds and just cry as the weight of everything pressed down on him. But there was Yuzuru’s lightning still; a little miserable, a little weak, a little wet at the edges, but still distinctly Yuzuru all the same, all compassion and determination and elbows, like he was right there with Shoma even now. Continents, oceans, Grey Zones – they turned to nothing when Shoma closed his eyes and drew the memory of Yuzuru’s face up out of the darkness behind his eyelids. Marshmallow and spring and promises; he licked his lips and could taste it all.

‘This was what he meant,’ Tracy said into the silence, and Shoma almost jumped at the sudden sound. Tracy took the phone, her face twisting briefly into a grimace as she pressed play on the video again. ‘They are taking out more than they put in: this struggle is on the concourse in front of their building, in plain view for anyone to walk by and see unless-’  
‘Unless they used powers to stop time,’ Brian finished. ‘Power misuse; they used power to try and stop Yuzu…to use magic in an effort take his magic out of the world could easily put enough strain on the fabric of what sustains power to create a Grey Zone.’  
‘Until Yuzuru got away and put what magic back he could by contacting Shoma – that’s probably why the Grey Zone didn’t spread so far,’ Tracy said. Shoma felt a headache starting to form behind his eyes, a wave of dizziness hitting him, and he braced himself against the desk, swallowing hard. _Don’t fall asleep, Yuzu. Keep your eyes open, please._  
‘He’s been out there so long…the Grey Zone could still overwhelm him,’ Shoma whispered, tense and quiet.  
‘He’s right, Brian…it’s been hours, he was already hurt…and it clearly took a lot of power to fight against those guys, who knows how much it took to conjure that much fire,’ Ghislain put in. Brian flinched.  
‘I know…I know.’ He looked over at the minister. ‘Is this still not enough for you? To have Yuzu himself telling you to believe in Shoma? To have proof he didn’t engineer this whole thing?’ The minister pursed his lips.  
‘It’s a start,’ he said carefully, before glancing at Shoma again. ‘But I’m afraid it’s still not enough for me to trust that this boy has any notion of where to find Hanyu. He’s a child – unknown and untested. Why should we risk millions on a fairytale of hope and petals? For this to meet the standards required for government spending of this kind, we still need more.’ 

Whether it was the sleep deprivation, the tension or simply his determined nature which finally broke through the fog in his head, Shoma wasn’t sure, but in that moment, he realised he had had enough of being underestimated; it had worked to his advantage so many times before, but now wasn’t the time to let himself be dismissed, not when so much could rest on it, not when it was so very important he was listened to. He was done being quiet – he was done with the ministry thinking they could push him around the way they had never been able to with Yuzuru. He wasn’t a replacement or an alternative; he was an equal, but he was also part of a package deal, and the other half of that deal was trapped out on his own and he wanted him back no matter what. Shoma’s lips curled slightly in his own variation of the dangerous smile he had seen Yuzuru give so many times before – his exhaustion was gone, and inside was all fire and steel, and the faint sensation of Yuzuru’s lightning, weak but still somehow managing to do cartwheels through his consciousness, knowing and restless.  
‘Cool it, Thunder Boy; I’ve got this one,’ Shoma whispered, standing a little straighter and carefully regarding the minister from the corner of his eye. ‘I’m not a child,’ he said, wetting his lips and lifting his chin defiantly. The minister slowly turned to look back at him, raising a sceptical eyebrow, and Shoma’s eyes glinted, dark and challenging. ‘I know I’m short and I’m quiet…I know I get lost, maybe. I need more time than other people do, sometimes…especially when things change.’ He tilted his head slightly, looking at the minister thoughtfully. ‘But I’m not a child. I’m not weak.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And I’m not deaf either,’ he added, giving a small shrug. ‘I’m not just someone who will nod and agree – I like to make up my own mind, make my own choices. Who I am is for me to decide, not you or the media.’ He glanced down, tipping his head back and forth in consideration. ‘What I am…I’m strong. Because I’m stubborn and loyal. Because I always push forwards when I care about something. I’m strong not because I’m powerful…but I am powerful too. And even if I doubt it sometimes? I know my power only ever acts for a reason – so if it brought Yuzu’s butterfly to me? Then there is a reason for that. And the only proof I have is Yuzu’s words and…myself, I guess. And if you actually knew me, and not just the idea of me – if you actually knew Yuzu, and not just the idea of Yuzu – then maybe that would be enough for you.’

There was a beat of silence; the minister stared at Shoma with a softly confused look on his face, regarding him as if he was seeing him for the first time, and Shoma’s lips twisted into a small smile. He looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets and biting the furthest corner of his lip; his forehead creased just slightly, his fringe falling over his face as he let everyone stare at him, his focus not on them but instead on Yuzuru’s faithful, delighted lightning, pulsing at his back like somehow he knew. Shoma’s heart skittered just a little as he closed his eyes a moment, shaking his head and letting out a soft huff of a laugh. _Shut up, Yuzu, I’m trying to think._ He turned his eyes slowly back up to the minister, considering him quietly for a moment before lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. ‘If you want proof…I can give you proof,’ he said slowly. Tracy and Brian were regarding him in mild surprise, and he couldn’t blame them; he’d told them all trace of Yuzuru’s butterfly had vanished once he’d read the note, and he felt guilty for the half-truths and tricks he was playing on them. He bit his lip, keeping his eyes on the minister but focusing entirely inwards, to the place where he felt the glow of his power. Yuzuru’s lightning whispered through his bones, letting his power make its own choices but not letting him forget it was there if he needed it. Shoma drew in a deep breath. Slowly, calmly, he splayed out his fingers inside his pocket, feeling his power stir to the surface of his skin before he sharply drew his hand into a fist – as his fingers closed, his felt the soft, damp velvet of blossom petals, and it was an effort not to smile in relief. ‘The butterfly – I knew it was Yuzu’s before I’d even read the note. Because it brought cherry blossom with it on the breeze,’ he said, pulling his hand carefully out from his pocket and opening his palm in front of him. ‘And before you tell me they’re not proof of Yuzu’s magic: they can do this.’ He looked down at his open palm, concentrating hard as he twisted the fingers of his other hand inside his pocket, making a slight sweeping motion with them and letting out the slightest breath that brought forth with it just enough power to send the petals dancing around the room. They twisted, dipping and flittering about the minister’s head before swirling up and forming into a butterfly that fluttered for a moment before bursting out into petals once again, falling down like raindrops to the ground where they dissolved into golden light. Shoma looked up into the minister’s face, his lips forming an unreadable line and his eyes guarded but stormy. ‘Sometimes it’s not about proof, though. Or it shouldn’t be. Yuzu doesn’t need to be saved, not exactly. What he needs the most? Is just to be believed in. That doesn’t cost money, that costs strength,’ he said, firm and low as he put his hands back in his pockets. ‘So maybe what I’m really asking…is are you brave enough to believe in magic? Because…if not, you're probably in the wrong job.’

For a moment no one spoke – but Shoma didn’t have it in him to be afraid about the consequences. After all, if Yuzuru wasn’t going to be found, he would be left carrying the biggest “almost” in his chest for the rest of his life, and he couldn’t really think of anything worse the ministry could do to him than that; he would survive their anger better than he would survive Yuzuru’s loss. The minister looked back at Shoma and seemed to see it in him – the dug-in heels he must have been dealing with for years from Yuzuru, the impossible fierceness and the electric hope. Shoma almost smiled as he saw something shift in the man’s eyes.  
‘Very well. I’ll talk with some of our people…see what might be possible.’

Shoma barely registered the hubbub of voices and relieved sighs that erupted around him; the release roared in his ears as the tension in the atmosphere subsided, and he let his heavy eyelids close, let himself feel exhausted, let himself relish the strangely soothing balm of Yuzuru’s sleepy thunder at his back.  
‘…I’ll get the phone footage to the hotel, see if that will persuade them to choose a different side in all this and release their CCTV to us. This video, ideally, should stay between us…but if they have footage of him being taken? We could use that just as easily to shift this entire narrative. Raf? If you could brief Nathan on the latest details of the US plan, let him know it’s still the back-up if the Japanese ministry can’t guarantee the funds. Tracy, if you could handle things with the Japanese ministry and keep me updated? Ghislain, keep going over other options. Javi? More digging on the Alliance’s press and social media network – we get to the root of that, we kill the beast at the head if we can…’ Shoma let the words wash over him, choosing instead to focus on the minister still; he was briefing his own staff, his voice low and his tone clipped, something pinched and nervous in his expression as he motioned to them to head out before turning to face the room.  
‘Mr. Orser,’ he nodded to Brian, and as Brian nodded politely back he shifted his gaze to the rest of the mentors, giving a curt half-bow. Shoma caught his eye and offered him the smallest of wicked smiles.  
‘You keep calling me a child…but I’m going to be twenty-one in December,’ he said simply, giving an almost-mischievous shrug as he rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not asking for a birthday card or anything…I’m just saying…it’s kind of interesting, you know? That Yuzu was old enough to be trusted with the weight of the world at fourteen because it suited you, but twenty isn’t old enough to know anything when it comes to taking a chance.’ The minister simply gave him another quick nod, flicking a glance at Tracy and giving her a tight smile.  
‘I will be in touch with you on what officials in Japan decide,’ he told her, looking between her and Shoma for a beat with solemn, shining eyes. ‘He has a wise head and a smart mouth, this one,’ he added, sounding almost impressed, and Shoma looked down to hide his smile. Tracy nudged his side gently and he looked up at her from the corner of his eye.  
‘I’d say Yuzu taught him everything he knows…’ she said, winking at him then glancing over at the minister with a warm, knowing smile. ‘But honestly? I think it would be doing Shoma a disservice to pretend he isn’t a trouble all his own.’

Just moments after the minister had finally left, Shoma found himself swept up into a rush of a hug from Javier, who laughed, warm and rough over his shoulder as he spun him around.  
‘You’re my new hero, Shoma,’ he grinned as he set him down and ruffled his hair, taking his face in his hands and leaning in conspiratorially. ‘And when Yuzu hears this story? He’s going to adore you even more than he already does.’ Shoma blushed and wrinkled his nose.  
‘It was about…70% bluff,’ he mumbled.

It was Mihoko who saved Shoma from awkwardly standing around as the rest of the room busied themselves with their various tasks; whilst everyone else seemed to have renewed energy and purpose, Shoma felt more lost and exhausted than he had at the airport, his own lack of sleep and the faint sense of Yuzuru’s dimming lightning combining to make his head feel foggy and his body heavy. Mihoko, intuitive as ever, took him to the mentors’ lounge to sit with her drinking hot chocolate – she held up most of the conversation, coaxing small laughs out of him along with fragments of stories, trying her best to keep his mind off things for a little while until she was ultimately called away to help Tracy deal with some issue with the ministry.  
‘Don’t watch too much news whilst I’m gone, Shoma – headlines only, and don’t believe anything sent to you from anyone who wasn’t in the meeting, ok? I’ll make sure everyone is honest with you, whatever happens; no point babying you with lies, you’re too clever…you’ll see right through it and challenge us anyway.’

She needn’t have worried; Shoma was too tired for staring down at his phone screen devouring gossip, and when she left he simply curled up on the squashy sofa, pulling a cushion to his chest and resting his chin on it, staring dolefully out to sea. The ocean out beyond the window was so black the white peaks of the waves formed constellations against it, the rich darkness beneath glossy and fathomless; everything around the Foundation was a blanket of stars, shimmering and dancing, even the raindrops seeming to make the windows into miniature skies, the shadows casting tickling patterns over Shoma’s skin. He closed his eyes against the shifting light, letting out a low hum as he leant into the feeling – there was something magical about it, something that reminded him of Yuzuru’s touch, and he smiled sadly, enjoying the way the ghosting light flickered into memories behind his closed eyelids. It was as though allowing himself to finally miss Yuzuru fully had unlocked some hidden cavity inside; the feeling of gold light and wild laughter poured in, city lights winking, hums and fingerprints and heavy yellow dawns, hotel sheets and bergamot and cherry trees. _Ridiculous, always._

The sound of his phone interrupted the quiet, making him jump, and it took him a moment to process what the sound was, his unfocused eyes staring down at the blur of colours for a few seconds as the phone continued to buzz and chime. He blinked the glaze in his expression away, sniffing back the hint of unshed tears and shaking his head slightly; his eyes were sore, his head was spinning, and the last person in the world he should be talking to was his too-loud, too-brash little brother…and yet when he saw his name on the screen, a bubble of relieved laughter escaped from the back of his throat, and he pushed his fringe back from his face and sat up a little straighter, trying to pull himself together as he swiped to answer the call.

‘Any news?’ Itsuki asked the moment the call connected, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly at his brother’s genuine concern, at the telling way the far corners of his lips turned down and the faint furrow of his brow.  
‘Not really,’ he sighed, glancing down and pulling a face. ‘Not at all, actually…I mean, besides the new footage from the hotel but…you’ve probably seen that already, I guess.’ Shoma swallowed down the lump in his throat, and Itsuki flinched, nodding slowly.  
‘Yeah. I saw.’ He wrinkled his nose, trying to seem dismissive and casual but not fooling Shoma for a moment. ‘It looks awful but…he’s a fighter, right? And…at least his side of the story is out there now. Because the Alliance’s version? Was getting way too much traction. But Yuzu is, like, beloved around the world, Sho; the tide will turn back easily. The main thing is that he makes it out to try to set the record straight for himself, you know?’ Shoma ran his tongue along the sore spot on his lip, nodding slowly but not meeting Itsuki’s eyes. The ocean roared from out beyond the cliffs, and Shoma curled in a little, hugging the cushion more closely to his chest and turning away from the windows slightly.  
‘I keep telling myself it’s that simple: they find him, he comes back…and he fixes everything. But…honestly? I’m terrified,’ he admitted quietly. ‘Even if he’s found…this is just the start, you know? This is where the fight begins – the Alliance have fired the starting gun, and nothing can go back to the way it was before now.’  
‘Sho,’ Itsuki whispered, his voice achingly gentle and full of understanding, and a lopsided smile crossed Shoma’s face for a moment as he blew out a breath, his fringe ruffling messily at the edge of his vision.  
‘I’m ok. It’s…I chose this, you know? And I…I know that now. I think I’ve started to realise that I chose it a long time ago, before I even knew it was a choice…back when I was just a kid and I wasn’t scared of thunderstorms. You always thought I was crazy for waking up just to watch the rain.’  
‘I remember,’ Itsuki said, his voice low and a nostalgic smile touching his lips. ‘I didn’t think you were crazy – I thought I had the bravest big brother in the world.’  
‘Shut up.’  
‘Never,’ Itsuki laughed, shaking his head. ‘I’ll deny it if you repeat it in front of anyone…but…it’s still true.’

Shoma pursed his lips to stop from smiling, his eyes glittering in the shaded light as he shook his head and glanced away again. ‘So…’ Itsuki said, his voice dipping back to something more tentative, and Shoma regarded him through his fringe. His brother’s ever-beaming face was so much quieter than usual, unnatural shadows under his eyes, and Shoma wished he could reach out and heal him, press a little of his power against him for reassurance. Itsuki wasn’t used to wavering and worrying and wondering – Itsuki was sure and outgoing and almost impervious to stress, and, as much as it ached, Shoma found it touching just how much he obviously cared about Yuzuru. ‘You can still sense him, right? I mean…like his power and whatever?’ Itsuki asked into the peace, a crack in his voice, and Shoma winced, letting out a tense sigh.  
‘Yeah. I can still sense him.’ He bit into his lip and tasted blood. ‘He’s so weak, though…I keep trying to will him not to sleep but…he’s exhausted. I’m so scared he’s going to close his eyes for a second and not be able to-’ Shoma cut himself off, blinking furiously and brushing at his eyes with his sleeve. ‘He’s such a fighter. But he’s spent a lifetime fighting, Itsuki – it scares me to think this could be one fight too much…that enough people stopped believing in him just long enough to…to…snuff out that light, that hope he’s always battled to keep inside.’ Shoma swallowed down the tears and closed his eyes. ‘The ministry weren’t even going to search for him. They’d just…given up, written him off. They’d stopped believing. And they wasted so much time when they could’ve just…found him. I could’ve come back to him here already, to see him ok and…’ Shoma rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling and blinking away fresh tears. ‘I just want to hold him again. To remind myself he’s real.’

Itsuki was quiet for a moment, tactfully letting Shoma take the time to put himself back together; when Shoma finally looked back down at his phone screen, his brother was smiling, wonky and fond and free of judgment, not even a flicker of mischief in his eyes over what Shoma had let himself admit. ‘What, no whistling and mocking me and asking me if I want to kiss him?’ Itsuki rolled his eyes, giving a blithe shrug.  
‘Please, like I even need to ask if you want to kiss him – he’s a good enough kisser to have had you half-gaga over him since Singapore,’ he said, whiney but sweet, and Shoma let out at wet laugh, pulling a face.  
‘Shut up, you little brat.’  
‘Correction: big brat. I tower over you at this point, you need to stop living in denial.’ Itsuki flashed him a wicked smile, and Shoma laughed despite himself, turning his eyes skywards again and feeling a little of the tension work its way out of his system. ‘So…they were really going to just leave Yuzu out there? That wasn’t just a dumb rumour on Twitter?’ Itsuki asked quietly. Shoma nodded, and Itsuki winced, his expression stung but sympathetic. ‘Wow,’ he said dryly.  
‘Yeah,’ Shoma sighed. ‘I was able to get them to listen but…they’d already wasted so much time. He’s been out there holding on so long I don’t even know if-’ Shoma cut himself off, running his fingers through his fringe. ‘I wouldn’t even need to worry about this if they’d just believed me,’ he muttered darkly, and Itsuki let out a sharp laugh.  
‘Uh-oh – did you go full Hulk Shoma on them, huh? Make them see sense through scowls and sarcasm and force of will?’ Shoma shot his brother a half-hearted glare.  
‘Shut up, I don’t go “Hulk Shoma”, stop being dramatic – that isn’t even a thing. I’d just look like a drunk toddler throwing my weight around.’ Itsuki laughed harder, throwing his head back for a moment before looking back to Shoma to widen his eyes pointedly.  
‘Oh really? Not a thing? Speaking as the person who once got between you and the last hamburger at that New Year’s party when you hadn’t eaten all day? I would argue it is definitely a thing, Sho. We were in trouble with Mum for weeks after that fight!’ Itsuki’s eyes were impish and bright, but his smile softened a little, some of the edge going out of his expression as he sagged slightly, looking down. ‘Maybe Hulk Shoma is a good thing though,’ he conceded thoughtfully, tipping his head to one side. ‘Remember when we were kids, and that stupid boy in the park made me cry in the playground by pushing me over and laughing when my knee got cut?’ Shoma frowned slightly and Itsuki gave a shy shrug. ‘I never forgot that day. You hugged me so tight and you scowled so hard…’ Itsuki paused, his smile turning crooked and a small laugh escaping him. ‘And all you said to the kid who did it was “Go” but…you sounded like fire, like steel and war and the sound of the ocean. It blew my mind – I never forgot that moment. That kid bolted and you and me had the run of the park for the rest of the day because none of the other kids dared cross you. I think it’s probably up there with one of the best days I’ve ever had, honestly.’ Itsuki’s lips twisted to one side as he glanced down, blushing slightly. ‘I’ve never felt so safe – or at least…from that moment on? Feeling safe just…wasn’t so much of a revelation any more. Because I knew I had you in my corner; that was enough.’ He looked up, meeting Shoma’s gaze somewhat cautiously, and Shoma offered him a ghost of a smile, his eyes bright and full of feeling.  
‘What are you being all dumb and soft for, huh?’ he murmured, and Itsuki laughed slightly, rolling his eyes.  
‘Shut up, you ungrateful idiot – I’m being a good brother and reminding you that…you don’t always have to be with the people you care about to keep us safe, ok? You care enough to be with us all the time. And I know Yuzuru knows that too.’ Itsuki’s smile turned softer, his eyes glimmering with that deep, infinite kindness he so often tried to hide behind his humour and his sharpness, and Shoma smiled back at him quietly, grateful and fond in equal measure. ‘You’re both going to make it through this, Sho – I know it, ok? I didn’t think it was possible there could be anyone as full-on obstinate idiot as you…but…it turns out there’s him. And you’re both as annoying and stubborn as each other, apparently. So, if I was the bad guys? I’d give up now. You two aren’t going to go down without a fight, and if you’re fighting together? Pretty sure you’re not going down at all.’  
‘But first he has to survive, Itsuki. The ministry have to find him or-’  
‘Er, even if they don’t? You’ll just…find another way. No one knows you as well as I know you – sometimes even you don’t know you as well as I know you, ok? So just…trust me on this one. It’s ok to be scared, Sho. But just…remember the kid who used to watch the lightning like it was a magic show. You push through what other people fear, always.’  
‘Thank you,’ Shoma said, scratchy but gentle, and Itsuki offered him dry smirk, the light in his eyes still sweet but the smile on his lips turning wicked.  
‘Don’t thank me; it is my duty as the smart brother to knock sense into you in times of trouble. I’m really just doing what I can to make sure you don’t disgrace the family name.’ Shoma rolled his eyes, laughing despite himself as he took in Itsuki’s shameless grin.  
‘Shove off – if anyone’s going to disgrace the family name it’s you,’ he shot back, narrowing his eyes at Itsuki knowingly. ‘I mean…what time is it over there right now, huh? Shouldn’t you be in school?’ he demanded, smirking when Itsuki let out a childish whine.  
‘Sho, you sound like Mum,’ he pouted. Shoma pulled a face at him. ‘I snuck out of my lesson, ok?’ When Shoma arched an eyebrow Itsuki stuck his tongue out and wrinkled his nose. ‘It’s fine, stop judging me – it’s nearly lunch anyway,’ he shrugged. ‘And it’s not like I could even concentrate; I care about Yuzu too, you know.’ Shoma softened a little, glancing down at the pattern he was tracing along the cushion in his lap.  
‘Yeah, I know,’ he agreed quietly. Itsuki sighed.  
‘No one gets what’s up with me because…I didn’t tell anyone. About Yuzu talking to me or…you guys being close. It seemed…I don’t know…special. And I know how much trust he was putting in both of us…to talk to us the way he did when there’s so much we could have gone to the press with. I want to respect that, and if my friends can’t that’s their problem. Half of them are so pissed off with me right now for being a killjoy but…that just shows you who your real friends are, I guess.’ Itsuki huffed. ‘I hate not being able to explain, though. Everyone’s going on like it’s a normal day but…I don’t feel normal. And I’m carrying a billion secrets around on top of it all. My teachers keep giving me funny looks – it kinda sucks being stuck here, honestly.’ He looked away, sucking on his bottom lip for a moment. ‘I didn’t even want to come in…but Mum said I wasn’t messing up my grades over international politics, and the security people insisted it would look suspicious if we didn’t stick to our normal routine so…’ He gestured vaguely around him and rolled his eyes. ‘I’m stuck at school pretending not to mind when people start gossiping about if Yuzuru Hanyu’s going to make it out alive or not – like it’s all just some cool new show on TV and not, you know…an actual person with actual feelings and friends and a family and…a life.’ Shoma’s face crumpled, and he let out a soft, sighing sound, his eyes full of wounded concern.  
‘I’m so sorry you have to deal with all this,’ he said, fragile and quiet, and Itsuki looked up into his face with wide, curious eyes.  
‘Sho – what have you got to be sorry for, huh? It’s not your mess. And I mean…Yuzu was the one who had to go and make me care about him anyway.’ He widened his eyes pointedly, coaxing a breathy laugh from Shoma. ‘Yeah, so…stop apologising. Just…maybe get your boyfriend to make it up to me someday for being a massive attention seeker, ok?’ Shoma smirked.  
‘Come on – Yuzu can’t help it that being the centre of attention is his oxygen, he’s just built that way.’  
‘Interesting,’ Itsuki smiled slyly, eyes all sparkle again, and Shoma glowered at him suspiciously. ‘No correction on the boyfriend thing; does this mean I can finally bump him up from being “The Not-Boyfriend” on my phone?’ He waggled his eyebrows at Shoma, teasing and knowing at the same time, and Shoma groaned, tipping his head back to gaze up at the ceiling.  
‘Itsuki, don’t start.’ He sighed, looking back at his brother and pulling a face. ‘It’s not like we’ve even talked about whether-’ Shoma faltered, his throat suddenly dry. ‘It’s not like me and him have even…we didn’t…’  
‘Hmm?’ Itsuki queried, eyes wide in a show of mocking innocence that made Shoma attempt a glare at him.  
‘We never talked about that stuff, ok? About…about what we are…to each other, about where we stand. The summit was just like…this moment in time that we both knew was going to be over, one way or another. I don’t know how he feels about me beyond that. It was just this weird bubble where all the rules were…suspended, I guess.’  
‘Shoma,’ Itsuki let out, equal parts caring and exasperated. ‘Come on, you know he loves you.’  
‘No, Itsuki – I don’t know that, ok? It’s not…I mean he didn’t…he never said. So…I don’t know how he feels. He didn’t tell me and he…he let me go back home so-’  
‘Oh my God, Shoma: _exactly_! He let you come back home!’ Itsuki rolled his eyes dramatically, looking desperately like he wanted to reach through the phone and flick Shoma between the eyes. ‘Sho, just because he didn’t say the words doesn’t mean he didn’t tell you how he felt, ok? Please tell me you are not this blind.’ Shoma frowned and Itsuki let out a small, strangled sound, hitting the heel of his hand to his forehead. ‘Shoma,’ he groaned. ‘I have the dumbest brother, I swear.’  
‘What?!’  
‘Shoma, Yuzu gets you – he gets how much you need to come to your own conclusions, how much you value knowing the words you speak are definitely your own.’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘So he wasn’t going to put the words out there before you did but…that doesn’t mean he wasn’t saying it in different words. Like every time he told you “Be careful” or “Stay” or “Goodnight” – those were his “I love yous”, the looks and the secret jokes and the dumb messages he let me send him, the sighs and the silences, every time he loaned you his damn jacket. It’s all an “I love you” just…not in as many words. I’ve never been in love in all my life, Shoma, and even I know this much: if he didn’t love you? He would never have been able to let you come home. Everything he has done has been screaming it – and for someone who listens so hard, so much? You’re kind of doing an amazing job at playing deaf right now.’

For a moment the two of them lapsed into a heavy silence, Shoma staring mutely down at Itsuki’s face, trying to ignore the feelings stirred up in his chest as Itsuki stared back at him unwaveringly, all his sureness restored and a plea in his eyes that pulled at something inside Shoma’s chest. Shoma started to push at the sore spot on his lip again, his eyes growing unfocused as he turned to look at a point in the middle-distance, fighting to keep his breathing steady. ‘Shoma,’ Itsuki said softly, and Shoma closed his eyes.  
‘Don’t. Please.’ He swallowed hard, pulling as much air into his lungs at he could and trying to fight back a wave of dizziness that he couldn’t identify as being definitely his own or definitely Yuzuru’s, everything inside his ribcage too tangled up and confused for him to separate out any longer.  
‘Please, Sho, I just…I’m not telling you how to feel, you know? I’m just…telling you the truth about what I see. So that when you do try and tackle that whole mess…you can make the decision the way you would rather: with all the facts on the table.’ Shoma tentatively turned his eyes back to the screen, regarding Itsuki sceptically, and Itsuki gave him a sad, helpless shrug in return. ‘I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to overwhelm you or mess things up I just…’ He shook his head. ‘I was there that night, remember: in our room, when he told you all those stories until you fell asleep?’ He stared Shoma down for a beat, trying and failing to get him to finish the chain of thought, but Shoma simply stared at him, solemn and silent, and he sighed heavily, shaking his head once more. ‘Sho – when a feeling literally glows in the dark? I don’t think the words need to be said for you to know they’re there. You want people to believe in him? So take your own advice. Believe in him; all of him, not just the survival against the odds things. Yuzu loves you. What you do with that information, how you feel about it? That’s still up in the air, I guess. But just…stop trying to bury the knowledge and be honest with yourself. Denial has never been your style, Sho – be Shoma. Brave, all-heart, all-force Shoma. Blunt and honest. Do that and the rest might just come to you anyway.’

Shoma was still curled up on the mentors’ lounge sofa, staring down at his now-blank phone screen when Keiji knocked tentatively on the doorframe, leaning into the room with a caring smile.  
‘Hey,’ he said gently, and Shoma simply blinked at him, his brain slow and jetlagged and the ache of his bones nagging at his consciousness. ‘I figured you’d still be up here,’ Keiji sighed, coming into the room and perching on the arm of the sofa, looking down at Shoma thoughtfully. ‘How’re you doing?’ Shoma shrugged listlessly, worrying at his bottom lip and shaking his head.  
‘I’m fine,’ he mumbled, regarding Keiji out of the corner of his eye and letting out a gentle, complaining groan when he caught the solemn look on his face. ‘Please don’t say it,’ he whimpered, and Keiji frowned.  
‘Say what?’ He tipped his head slightly, seeming genuinely at a loss, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘I don’t know – whatever you were giving me that look for, the look everyone gives me before they start to tell me how I feel…or how Yuzuru feels…or…or how they know things even I don’t.’ He let out a sigh, shaking his head. ‘Why do people even think they know something that is just…complicated. And private and…and _mine_. I know that’s why you came here so…fine, just have at it and I’ll pretend to listen, ok? But…please don’t expect me to tell you how I feel when…when I haven’t even told Yuzuru yet.’ He glanced up plaintively, and Keiji offered him a warm, careful smile, nodding slowly.  
‘Ok,’ he said, his lips twitching to one side as he stared at the floor thoughtfully. ‘Except…I really, truly just came here because Mihoko sent me to look for you.’ He flicked a glance across at Shoma, his smile turning wry. ‘She didn’t think you’d have had the sense to get some rest and she was worried about you – she wanted me to make sure you get some sleep.’ He shrugged. ‘Look, Shoma…you and Yuzu? You’re my friends, ok? And I’ve told you before – I think sometimes…someone’s business is just that. _Their_ business. And if they need help with it, they’ll ask – as a friend you have to wait until they do. So…I really wasn’t going to lecture you, I promise. All I care about is that you’re both happy. And I know that as long as Yuzu is missing? Everything is a small problem in comparison.’ Shoma’s lips curled up at one corner, his smile timid but grateful, and Keiji smiled back at him, giving him a small nod. ‘For the record? I’m under strict instructions to take you back to your room. Even if I wanted to? I really don’t have the option to start asking you big, complicated questions about your life; I’m supposed to be keeping you calm, that’s why I got the job and not Kana.’ He quirked an eyebrow, his gentle, expressive eyes lit up with unquestioning care, and Shoma wanted to launch himself at him, to hug him tight and not let go. His arms twitched around the cushion he was holding, squeezing it a little harder as he looked down in mild embarrassment, giving Keiji a sheepish smile.  
‘Sorry,’ he said, and Keiji shrugged, unbothered.  
‘No worries; I’ve been part of Team Japan long enough now to be immune to emotional outbursts. Yuzu once made a sound like a dying cat and didn’t speak to me for two days because I took the last strawberry ice cream…I mean, in his defence? He was having a rough week with the ministry and I think it was probably the last straw. But that sort of thing? Kind of helped break me in. Your rant just then barely even registered on the scale of weird meltdowns in Team Japan.’ Shoma let out a snuffle of a laugh, and Keiji flashed him a kind wink. ‘Speaking of Yuzu though…’ he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and offering something small, golden-brown and star-shaped out to Shoma in his palm. ‘White chocolate and honeycomb cookie; Mao bakes when she’s nervous…and I figured maybe you were missing out on the sugar supply without Yuzu around to feed your addiction.’ Shoma’s smile widened and he brushed the remnants of tears off his cheeks immediately, leaning forwards to take the cookie as a genuine smile touched his lips.  
‘Thanks, Keiji,’ he whispered. ‘I hope I’m even half as good a big brother to Itsuki as you are to me, you know that?’ Keiji chuckled, reaching out to nudge his shoulder gently.  
‘Knowing you? I think it’s a given,’ he told him kindly, before nodding his head towards the door. ‘Now come on; Team Japan are taking shifts staying up tonight, so there’s going to be someone to wake you and tell you the minute there’s any word – and in the meantime? I’m not risking Mihoko’s wrath by letting you worry yourself into a state. So get up – it’s time for bed.’ Shoma laughed softly, pulling a face at him.  
‘You sound as if you’re going to tuck me in like I’m five or something,’ he moaned, tired and petulant as his smile turned playful, and Keiji snorted, cuffing the back of his head lightly.  
‘Hey, don’t put anything past me if you make my life difficult, huh?’

It was strange to be back in his room at the Foundation; when he’d left he had been so sure it was a place which held no trace of him, but walking back into it after a weekend away didn’t feel entirely unlike when he’d walked back into his childhood bedroom – there was the same sensation of memories being stirred up in the dust, and an all-consuming gladness seeped into his skin as he let the heavy quiet pull him in. There were moments which had happened in the space which he hadn’t let himself remember before – Keiji and Satton annoying him with movies and tickling and complaints about his crumpled sheets, Yuzuru yelling into the pillow about how useless some speech was until Shoma took pity on him and sneaked the notebook across the bed to help him rewrite, video calls with Itsuki at ridiculous times of day, his brother in his school uniform, whistling too loudly and keeping Shoma awake. It felt safe and familiar even in the dark, even empty and still and full-up with silence. Shoma could feel the traces of energy some part of him had wanted to shut out when he left; the static of the Foundation’s background hum didn’t bother him so much, and there was something nice about being surrounded by so much light, something protective about the fortress of glass and the mess of soft, silly, wild-hearted people and powers all around him. Curiously, his room smelt faintly of jasmine and bergamot – like it did when Yuzuru had just left him after a night of practice questions and shin-kicks.

Since he didn’t have his suitcases yet, Team Japan had decided to leave him some essentials by his bed; most of it seemed to have been gathered from the convenience store downstairs, but someone – he suspected Kanako – had gone to the Japanese shop that sat down one of the warrens of independent shops that sprung off from the courtyard to acquire some home comforts, and someone else – he suspected Keiji – had managed to find the worn-in old t-shirt he thought he’d lost in Singapore. Jason had passed along his backpack and Yuzuru’s jacket, both of which sat at the bottom of the bed, the jacket neatly folded up with a note left on top in Satoko’s handwriting telling him to call her if he needed anything else; Shoma pulled the jacket on without hesitation, letting the sleeves flop over his hands and tugging the stretched out fabric around him as he shivered against the sound of the rain outside. He collapsed onto the bed, lying flat on his back with his limbs splayed out as he let his eyelids grow heavy – finally everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, or perhaps everything that had happened since he’d first laid eyes on Yuzuru Hanyu across the Foundation courtyard, seemed to catch up with him in a heartbeat, and, with a groggy huff, Shoma curled up and fell into a deep, heavy-limbed sleep.

Shoma wasn’t sure how long it was he slept for before he was jolted awake once more, but he suspected it wasn’t long enough. It was still dark, the night sparkling through the raindrops drying on the window and the wind making the shadows sway in criss-cross patterns over the room; he was breathless and ruddy-cheeked as he sat up and pressed a hand to his chest to try and steady himself from the shock of waking up so suddenly, but the ragged feeling wouldn’t dissipate. He pushed the hair from his forehead and curled his fingers somewhat desperately against his scalp as he tried to stop the world from tilting back and forth – his brow furrowed and his head spun as he tried to figure out what it was that had woken him, trying to swallow but finding his throat sore and his mouth dry. And that was when he realised. There was no wood smoke or cherry blossom. There was no lightning. No drums or thunder. Instead there was a deep, hollow quiet inside his chest, and a shiver ran through him as he felt the crack of icy cold creeping up from his core. He squeezed his eyes shut, reached out and out and still further out, but all he found was white noise. Inky blackness pooled at the edges of his consciousness – a dark night without storms and without moonlight, an emptiness which sent frost crawling along Shoma’s skin.

His breathing was harsh and quick, and where Yuzuru’s rumbling energy used to roll through his ears, now he could only hear his own heartbeat.  
‘Yuzu,’ he whispered. The frost tapped its fingers up his arms and the cold clawed its way up his throat and as he opened his eyes once more he found black clouds gathering at the edges of his vision. ‘ _Yuzu_.’ Insistent this time – fierce and demanding, full of petulant, childish want and vulnerable desperation. But Yuzuru didn’t take the bait. ‘Yuzuru, stay awake – I told you to stay awake,’ he said through gritted teeth, shaking his head and pulling his knees up to his chest with a whimper, feeling angry and hopeless at the same time. ‘Yuzu, please,’ he sniffed, half-sob this time, trying to swallow and finding a ball of tears and frustration stuck there. ‘I’m sorry.’ He pulled his knees up and tucked his head in as he tried once more to steady himself. ‘I didn’t stay awake – I left you alone like everyone else.’ He swiped his tears away with the sleeve of Yuzuru’s jacket, wincing at the blush of bergamot and jasmine and shaking his head, reaching out blindly for his phone and scrolling through to Satoko’s number, hitting dial too quickly to question it.

‘Where are you?’ he sniffled before Satoko could even get out a hello, and he could almost hear her frown, the worried twist of her lips.  
‘Shoma, what’s wrong?’ she asked, cool and firm and no-nonsense, but Shoma ignored her, trying to push down the bubble of air which had trapped itself beneath his ribs, making his breath hiccupping and broken.  
‘Satton – where are you?’ he asked again, not caring that he was probably only heightening her worry, too desperate to find someone who would let him cling to them and tell him empty platitudes that might somehow make everything ok. He wanted someone to tell him he was wrong.  
‘I’m at the Constellation Café with Kana – do you need us to meet you? We can come to your room,’ Satoko said, and Shoma could hear the sound of movement in the background, chairs scraping and cutlery being downed. He shook his head, the muscles in his face taught and the salt from his tears stinging the dark rashes of red on his cheeks.  
‘No,’ he said, half to himself, shaking his head a little more firmly before remembering Satoko couldn’t see him. ‘No, not here.’ He pushed himself up from the bed, fast enough to make himself dizzy. ‘Can I…can I meet you in the courtyard?’ he asked. ‘I just…I need to talk to someone and I need…fresh air.’ _And I need to see the moon._  
‘Of course, we’ll be right there.’

As hard as it was to get his body to move, Shoma still half-ran the distance, taking the stairs rather than facing being trapped standing still in the lift with nothing but his own thoughts and the bleak hollowness at the core of his sensing power; his muscles screamed at him, and every breath stung his lungs in the cold night air, but he enjoyed the pounding of his feet along the ground as he ran, the way the breeze whipped the tears off his cheeks and dried his eyes. Kanako and Satoko were standing by one of the pools, their arms wrapped around themselves as they leaned in towards each other, exchanging whispers of concern; Satoko was still clutching her phone as she shook her head helplessly at Kanako’s questions, and Kanako was as ebullient and fierce as ever in the face of chaos, all wild hand gestures and run-together sentences.

Shoma barely processed the scene in front of him, didn’t even take a moment to think about it before he hurtled across the final distance between them: he all but threw himself at Kanako, his breathing still too heavy and too frantic, shamelessly desperate and wild. Kanako stumbled back just slightly as he thudded into her, taking less than a second to process the impact before her arms folded around him instinctively.  
‘Shoma,’ she let out in a sweet hum, concerned and gentle as he clung to her, and she leant her cheek against the top of his head, shushing him softly and casting a worried glance Satoko’s way. All Satoko could do was shrug, just as concerned as she was and with no answers to give. ‘Shoma, what’s wrong, huh? What is this?’ Kanako pressed, her voice low and kind as she leant back just a little, trying to see his face, but Shoma shook his head, his throat too tight to speak. ‘Ok, it’s ok,’ she sighed, letting him burrow, and Shoma felt a little of her healing power dance against him with the words; Kanako’s power always felt light like petals, and her perfume smelt of summer – there was something safe in the sensation, something soothing just in the tightness of her hug and the rhythm in her shushing. She tucked him back under her chin, widening her eyes at Satoko in a plea, and Satoko stepped a little closer, resting a careful hand on Shoma’s arm.  
‘Shoma, what on Earth is wrong? What happened, huh?’ she asked. ‘Keiji said you were ok when he left you…and there hasn’t been any news…we promise we would have come and told you. It’s Dai’s shift right now, and you know he wouldn’t mess you around.’ Shoma nodded awkwardly against Kanako’s embrace, knowing she could probably feel the damp of his tears in the crook of her neck but finding he was past caring. ‘So then what’s wrong? We can’t help if you won’t speak.’  
‘Please, Shoma,’ Kanako told him, pulling back and holding him in front of her so she could dip her head to meet his gaze. ‘You are my terrible, silly, messy baby brother who I absolutely never asked for.’ She reached up to brush a tear from the corner of his eye with her thumb. ‘And I don’t want anything hurting you like this – if you need to talk, you can talk it out with us…or we can distract you for a little while. We’re here for whatever you need, no judgement and no telling the others if that’s not what you want. But we can’t be there if you don’t speak, ok?’ Shoma nodded, his bottom lip still caught between his teeth as he tried not to cry again, and Kanako let out a sweet huff of a sigh, her smile wonky as she pulled him back into her arms. ‘Come here, you daft thing,’ she whispered, crushing him against her in a hug that was alarmingly like his mother’s hugs, the same protective curl of an arm around his head and an unjudging totality he remembered from the days of scraped knees and broken toys and too much homework.

Kanako let him stay like that for a few moments, sheltered from the cold both inside and outside his ribcage by the fierceness of her grip, but he was dimly aware of the ongoing silent conversation happening over his shoulder, Kanako and Satoko both looking at each other, helpless and dying to press him for answers but not being certain he was strong enough to take the strain. He closed his eyes again, deciding to reach out one more time, but this time his heart had calmed down its ragged pace enough that he knew he wasn’t going to find anything – where Yuzuru’s storm clouds used to gather at his edges, now there was only dead air and absence. Some traitorous part of his mind screamed “I warned you, now we have to un-miss him all over again”, and he flinched at the thought, pushing it back and throwing it out with all the worst case scenarios and the regrets about wasted time. It hurt, but he’d rather feel – he knew that about himself now; in the feelings there was contrast, and in the contrast there would always be definition, meaning…the reassurance that it must have really been _something_ for the absence to become so dark a nothing.

He sniffed, the air cold on his cheeks as he pulled out just a little from Kanako’s warmth; Satoko and Kanako both looked at him, timidly expectant and compassionately hushed, and it was almost enough to set him off crying again, the sweetness of their understanding overwhelming on top of everything else. He swallowed hard and met Satoko’s eyes.  
‘I can’t sense him,’ he said, quiet but insistent, hoping she caught the meaning behind the words. Satoko’s eyebrows drew together slightly, and Kanako let out a soft, confused little sound.  
‘Huh?’ she asked, glancing at Satoko, whose eyes were still all concentration. ‘You can’t sense him?’ Kanako repeated then, looking from Satoko to Shoma and back again. ‘What does that mean?’ Satoko’s eyes were dark and intent, gleaming in the moonlight.  
‘I can’t sense him, Satton – there was lightning, and now there’s nothing. Everything’s cold and I’m just…alone.’ Shoma willed her to understand, his voice a plea and his eyes shining with a sheen of tears. ‘I haven’t felt nothing since I met him – not even when we fought. And I can’t go back to not sensing him, to before…’ He closed his eyes, leaning back against Kanako slightly.  
‘Shoma what are you talking about?’ Kanako asked, sighing in gentle frustration. ‘What do you mean you can’t “sense” him, huh?’ She twisted, trying to meet his eyes. ‘Did Yuzu teach you to sense? Or give you some sense just for him somehow?’ Satoko shook her head slowly, and Kanako looked up at her curiously.  
‘I don’t think that’s what he’s telling us, Kana,’ Satoko murmured. Kanako’s frown deepened.  
‘What?’ She looked back down at Shoma, who couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze. ‘If that’s not what you’re saying then…then what? What’s so secret you can’t just tell me?’ When Shoma didn’t reply she sighed and turned back to Satoko, who pursed her lips and cast Shoma a short, assessing look, playing somewhat nervously with her phone.  
‘I think…I think Shoma is trying to tell us something more, Kana. I think…’ She bit her lip. ‘I think he’s trying to tell us why it is his and Yuzu’s powers always seem to dance off one another…why it is there is always so much energy in the air when they are around.’  
‘Satton, stop speaking in riddles – what’s going on?’ Satoko offered Kanko a wry, fond smile, rolling her eyes at her slightly before stepping closer again and leaning in to force Shoma to look her in the eye.  
‘Shoma, when I told you in Singapore that I sometimes felt yours and Yuzu’s energy was something more…neither one of you denied it,’ she said slowly. Shoma nodded hesitantly. ‘So then…’ Satoko took a breath, shifting from one foot to the other. ‘You’re…you’re like him, aren’t you? That’s what this is about.’  
‘Huh?’ Kanako frowned, but Satoko didn’t look away from Shoma’s eyes, something knowing and determined in her face, yet still somehow an immense kindness behind it that pulled on Shoma, letting down what little defences he had left.  
‘You and Yuzu: you’re different, but you’re also the same, right? Which means your power…it’s another anomaly, another indefinable thing – so you…there is just as much strength and power behind you as there is behind him.’  
‘Wait, Satton…are you saying-’ Kanako cut herself off, pulling back to look down into Shoma’s face. ‘Shoma, is this true? You’re like Yuzu?’ Her eyes were wide but her expression was still more concerned than anything else, and Shoma looked down, worrying at his bottom lip.  
‘Healer. Warrior. Artist,’ Satoko stated, simple and quiet. ‘And so much more too, I suppose.’ Kanako tapped a finger to Shoma’s chin, and he looked back up at her.  
‘And sensitive enough to feel everyone’s energy on top of it all, huh,’ she sighed, shaking her head slightly before forcefully pulling him back against her. ‘Yuzuru’s energy most of all, I bet.’ She squeezed him close, letting out another heavy sigh. ‘Oh, Shoma – you should have told us. We would have kept the secret for you – and we might have been able to help you somehow.’  
‘I know,’ Shoma managed in a croak, and Kanako only hugged him tighter. ‘But now it doesn’t matter anyway – my power only makes half as much sense without him, Kana.’ He sniffed and squeezed his eyes shut once more. ‘I can still sense, but if I can’t sense him I don’t want to – there’s a void where there should be lightning…and I’m scared what that means.’

Everything in the courtyard was eerie-still and shimmering, the biting sea breeze seemingly the only movement in the whole of the Foundation complex; even for so late at night, the hush was unusually intense, fewer lights seeming to shine from windows and a strange, deserted feeling to the walkways and staircases, as though no one had moved through the place all day. Overhead the pinprick stars were framed by lavender-grey puffballs of cloud, candyfloss textured and dreamlike as they drifted and clustered around the Foundation’s high, cool buildings – everything was heavy and slow beneath them, the rain long gone and replaced by crisp, cutting air. It was possible to hear the sounds of raindrops dripping from the ends of one leaf and on to another, the distant roar of the ocean – just another one of the ways the Foundation seemed like it was floating away, an unreal thing bathed in milky, wet moonlight. The stars seemed to lean in, like they were straining to listen, to watch what happened next; Shoma turned his face away from them with a shiver.

Carefully Kanako managed to tug Shoma down to sit on the low pool wall beside her, letting him lean his weight against her and keeping her arms around him; she rocked him slightly, more playful than it was soothing, and something shone in her eyes when she caught the faint trace of a smile touching his lips, nudging him knowingly in the side and giving him a small wink. Reluctantly he nudged her back, wrinkling his nose slightly when she laughed at him and trying to ignore the aching cavity of silence in the centre of his chest. He rested his head against her shoulder and she rubbed his back soothingly. Satoko sat down on his other side, patiently letting the peace stretch out for a little while, her eyes on the sky and something thoughtful in her face, as though she was trying to pull a memory out of the stars by force of will alone. Kanako began to stroke his hair, and Shoma let his eyes fall closed.

‘Shoma,’ Satoko said at last, enchantingly soft and still gazing upwards. Shoma lifted his head slightly to look at her, and she turned to offer him a faint smile. ‘Did anyone ever tell you the legend of the Crossed Stars?’ Shoma’s forehead creased into a small frown, and he shook his head, quiet and slow. Satoko’s smile widened just a fraction, and she lifted her gaze back up to the sky; she was quiet for a beat, seemingly lost inside a memory, and in the pause Shoma found a tenuous calm, a brief moment where his panic wasn’t overwhelming him – he was grateful for these people, for this place, and even with the absence where Yuzuru was supposed to be, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any less like he belonged. Kanako squeezed him tightly, and he brought his hands up to wrap around her arm, resting his chin there and squeezing her back; it was as good as family, just as total, just as forgiving. ‘My mum told me the legend of the Crossed Stars when I was…six, I think?’ Satoko said into the quiet. ‘Maybe younger, though. I used to love to hear it because it reassured me about power and the world – it made things seem less chaotic to me.’ Satoko’s smile was a little wry as she cast a sidelong glance Shoma’s way. ‘I know I gave you a hard time when you left here, Shoma, but it wasn’t because I didn’t understand. I’ve always liked to be as rational as possible too; to be practical, to apply logic and science and only let the most important emotion in.’ She shrugged, looking back up with a sigh. ‘So when my power didn’t seem to make sense, or I couldn’t make something work the way I wanted it to, my mum would always tell me about the Crossed Stars, and how they made sure that all the magic in the world was kept in balance, how it always would work out in the end because of them.’  
‘Huh?’ Kanako frowned, lifting her head. ‘Why don’t I know this story?’ Satoko laughed.  
‘Kana, patience,’ she said, rolling her eyes fondly. Shoma’s lips curled into a ghost of a smile. ‘It’s a legend all over Asia, in a few different variations, I think. But its origin is actually in Japan – the story of two stars which shone at opposite ends of the galaxy, equal distances from the Earth. They shone there for thousands of years, the brightest two stars in the sky – watching only each other and the Earth between them. The stars recognised the light in each other, they knew that, although their perspectives were different, there was something in them which was the same.’  
‘That sounds like a familiar theme,’ Kanako said softly, leaning back to flash Shoma a twinkly-eyed look, and Shoma simply burrowed down childishly until she rested her cheek back against the top of his head with a fond laugh. ‘So come on, Satton – did these two stars ever meet?’ Satoko suppressed a laugh, shooting Kanako a vaguely despairing look and then leaning back on her hands with a thoughtful sigh.  
‘I suppose they met, in a manner of speaking,’ she conceded quietly. ‘Unlike all the other stars in the night’s sky, they weren’t content to simply watch and marvel at the darkness of the Earth, they weren’t content to be so passive – they felt bad for all the people there who saw nothing but shadows, and they wanted to help show them the wonder of the light, to give them something to believe in. So, one night, when the Earth seemed darker to them than ever…one star blinked, and the other one answered. Somehow they both knew they had made their decision: they had decided to fall.’  
‘Uh-oh – something bad’s going to happen isn’t it,’ Kanako whined. Satoko tried her best to look annoyed, but there was still a smile in her eyes.  
‘They had been apart but still somehow together for as long as anyone could remember; they were giving up a lot to take the risk, but they couldn’t not. When they fell they fell in matching paths, straight towards each other, not knowing for sure if they would ever see each other again. On their path they met once in the skies over the Earth, in a brief, glancing blow, but the light from it stayed overhead for days afterwards. They had been together for just a heartbeat – a burst of hope for all to see before they continued on their different paths, two electric lines of light crossing each other through the skies and down to Earth.’  
‘So did they light up the Earth like they wanted to?’ Kanako asked. Satoko nodded.  
‘Of course – and where they landed there was so much stardust in the air that everyone who breathed it in developed a power of their own, spreading the light that little bit further until it reached all the way around the world.’ Satoko’s smile softened into something wistful. ‘The problems came when the people who had preferred the darkness got a hold of some of those powers – they wanted to use them differently, not to spread light, but to help continue in the darkness, to make the darkness strong so they could do as they pleased and use the shadows to hide their secrets.’ She shrugged. ‘But the two stars were being underestimated – just because they couldn’t see each other any longer, that didn’t mean they didn’t still believe in each other’s light, didn’t still know and feel it deep inside. So, what the two stars did? Is set out to find each other once again, to see what would happen once they combined their light.’ Satoko looked at Shoma, quirking one eyebrow at him as her smile turned knowing and her eyes sparkled as darkly as the rain on the Foundation’s glass. ‘What do you think would happen, Shoma? If they combined their light?’ Shoma swallowed, looking down for a moment and listening to the sound of his breathing, focusing deeply on the space where Yuzuru’s lightning used to live inside his chest. A fresh wave of tears prickled the backs of his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, turning into Kanako’s kind embrace.  
‘I think…maybe they both shone brighter,’ he mumbled. Satoko hummed in agreement.  
‘That’s what the legend says,’ she whispered, lifting one shoulder in a careful shrug as she glanced back up at the sky thoughtfully. ‘They had been formed on opposite sides of the universe, a million miles from each other and a million years ago; the two stars shone in opposite directions their whole lifetime, but when they stood together? All anyone could see was light. They balanced each other out perfectly – and in that perfect balance? They were able to create a unique counterpoint of light to the Earth’s troublesome darkness, giving contrast where before there had simply been confusion. Like a perfect sum – a law as calculable as gravity.’ Satoko leant back on her hands. ‘The Western version of the story is much the same: they call it Heaven’s Scales, I think. God had a set of scales on which he placed two constellations – a heart and a compass. As long as these constellations were set upon the scales, sitting at the top of the universe, watching over the Earth, everything would remain in harmony. But once humans began to grow too fond of their chaos, God was forced to throw down the heart and the compass and hope their light would be enough.’  
‘Oh, I think I know that one,’ Kanako murmured absently. ‘We did a project on it in school: people found the constellations, and would string their light up from the trees to sit up and talk with friends all night. Their powers were scattered over everyone gathered around like a fine dust – but it wasn’t until the constellations were finally strung together that the balance of the universe became restored.’

In the quiet which fell over them, Shoma drew back into himself. A mist of rain had begun to fall, dusting his cheeks and making the air feel fresh and full in his lungs; he sniffed, shifting slightly, and lifted his head slowly. As Kanako loosened her grip he felt the cold slice at him, and he reached up to brush at the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of Yuzuru’s jacket, aching a little when no cloud of bergamot and jasmine came.  
‘Myths and legends and prophesies – they’re just stories, right?’ He shrugged and swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘They’re what people tell themselves, to try and make them feel better about the things they can’t explain – to try and fix all the unknowns until science can catch up and make a formula instead.’ He bit at his lip, pulling at the skin and wincing as he felt it tear. ‘It doesn’t mean anything; you hear the story after the events and the rest is just the power of suggestion, lining things up in your head, reassuring you that it’s some kind of sign…a promise of a happy ending against the odds.’ Satoko shuffled a little closer to him, laying a hand on his knee and leaning forwards to try and meet his gaze. Hesitantly Shoma glanced up, looking into her face through his fringe. ‘What does it even mean, Satton? If the story says there’s two pieces…but the real world only lets one survive?’  
‘Shoma,’ Satoko said in a soft, caring sigh.  
‘Don’t say that; we don’t know anything for sure,’ Kanako offered, pulling him close.  
‘Don’t we?’ Shoma shook his head slightly. ‘I’ve never not sensed him since we met. And he…we…’ He let out a wet huff of breath. ‘ _We promised_. He wouldn’t break a promise to me, I know it.’ Satoko squeezed his knee.  
‘Shoma,’ she said again, slow and musical and sure. ‘Listen, ok? If there is one thing both you and Yuzuru are proof of, it’s that defying the odds, breaking the rules and being a miracle? Are all strangely possible impossible things. You don’t know something until you know it – isn’t that something you’ve always believed? Isn’t that one of the very things Yuzu liked about you in the first place? You have never made assumptions and you see things clearly through the chaos: hold on to that now you need it most.’ Shoma sniffed, nodding slightly and risking opening his eyes. Satoko offered him a tiny smile. ‘Shoma, I don’t know if I believe any more in myths and legends than you do – I don’t know if the story of the Crossed Stars means anything, if the idea of Heaven’s Scales is just something someone dreamed up to make themselves feel better about all the uncertainties of the world. But what I do believe in, without question, is what both of these stories represent: that there is chaos and darkness all around, but that there are also great forces of light…that there is balance in this world. I believe that magic and miracles – although they reach beyond what science and logic might understand – have their roots in the same carefully judged and calculated things, in what is real and what can be touched.’ Satoko’s smile twitched up at one corner, widening just a little. ‘You have to be able to touch a dream – otherwise, what’s the point? What’s worse than a dream that could never, ever be?’ Shoma looked down.  
‘A dream that almost was,’ he whispered. Satoko sighed.  
‘No, Shoma. Maybe the pain is worse. But at least you know it was possible. At least you know…if you knew him once, that must make it possible to know him once again. However else this night may end? You can at least be sure: it will end with a sunrise. That is the part you focus on – the part where the sunlight always finds a way.’ Shoma looked at her for a moment, a tiny smile curving his cracked lips, opening up a cut in one corner. He bobbed his head in a half-nod, glancing down shyly.  
‘My mark is the sun,’ he murmured. Satoko’s smile turned dryly knowing and she quirked an eyebrow at him, tilting her head.  
‘Oh really; fancy that, huh?’ she remarked, widening her eyes for emphasis, and Shoma let out a laugh despite himself, elbowing her lightly in the side. The rain was beginning to get a little heavier, and Shoma could feel the damp starting to make the ends of his fringe curl; there was a rattle in his chest, an empty, haunted thing that ached and nagged and pulled at him, but Satoko leant in to rest her head on his shoulder, and Kanako linked her arm through his and did the same, and that, at least, made the cold feel a little less lonely.

They couldn’t have been sitting there more than five minutes before Shoma heard it; a low, faint rumbling somewhere off in the distance, not wild enough to be thunder but the pitch too high for the deep hammer and burr of the Foundation’s basement generators. Shoma lifted his head sharply, twisting to look behind him, his eyes instinctively going to the sky.  
‘Can you hear that?’ he asked softly, his sore eyes scanning the clouds and the tops of the buildings for the source of the noise.  
‘Hear what?’ Kanako frowned, and Shoma held out a hand to hush her.  
‘ _That_ ,’ he breathed, holding still and gazing furiously at the skies.  
‘I think it’s getting closer,’ Satoko whispered, nodding slowly and turning around to get a better view of the black night as it stretched out beyond the Foundation skyline, distorting all sense of distance. ‘Is that…an engine?’  
‘Oh my God!’ Kanako gasped suddenly, grabbing Shoma’s arm with shocking force. ‘Of course!’ Shoma turned to look at her in confusion; her eyes were wide and shining, and she grabbed him by the shoulders, meeting his gaze with a fierce kind of hope that set fires inside his ribcage that he was scared to allow to take hold. ‘Shoma: the last time, when Yuzu was missing and they found him? They couldn’t waste any time or risk the press getting a glimpse when they brought him home – for fear of what they might see. So instead of driving? They sent a _helicopter_ to bring him back from the airport.’ Shoma looked at her blankly and she rolled her eyes, giving him the smallest of shakes. ‘ _Shoma_ : they sent a helicopter. In the middle of the night. It landed on the playing field.’

For a second Shoma stared at her, blinking dully in the face of her ragged hope, some part of his brain protecting him from the potential for disappointment by not fully processing the information. And then the rumbling drew even closer, a wind stirring in the courtyard’s trees and the vibration moving in zigzags up through the earth and into Shoma’s bones. Shoma drew in a shuddery breath, and his head snapped up sharply just in time to see a shadowy shape emerging from behind a bank of cushiony cloud.  
‘Yuzu,’ he whispered, dazedly, as a faint stutter of drums – slow and off-beat – sputtered back into the edges of his consciousness. His whole body flooded with pure adrenaline in a heartbeat, overrunning him with a dangerous, near-illogical hope. ‘ _I can feel him_ ,’ he said, and in a second he was scrambling to his feet, taking off in a desperate, breathless run across the courtyard, his lungs yelling at him and his feet splashing so forcefully through the puddles he could feel water soaking through to his ankles. Satoko and Kanako had started off after him, but he was outpacing them easily, suddenly alert and determined, his whole system hurtling back into life. The wind was bracing and icy against his stomach as Yuzuru’s jacket blew open, exposing him to the full force of the sea air, but somehow it only made him run harder, made his vision zero in even further.

By the time he reached the playing field, the helicopter had already landed, a crowd of people standing at its doors, clustering together in a bustle of activity and conversation that Shoma couldn’t make sense of through the blur of downdraft and noise; his fringe blew into his face, and he narrowed his eyes against it, still running forwards blindly, the faintest flicker of lightning compelling him to keep moving against the force of air trying to push him back. He didn’t even see Brian striding out towards him, and he crashed into him at speed, his momentum meaning Brian was only just able to catch him by the waist, hooking out an arm and somehow managing to hold steady against Shoma’s struggling.  
‘Shoma!’ Shoma was a confused twist of limbs and protest, and Brian let out a soft “Uff”, staggering backwards slightly and trying to hold the wriggling Shoma by the shoulders in an attempt to keep him still. ‘Shoma! Shoma, can hear me? Please?’ Shoma let out a whimper of protest, incoherent and still focused more on the wet lightning fighting to reach him than on what was happening around him. Brian gently but firmly got hold of Shoma’s upper arms, pushing him back just a little and holding him there, dipping his head to try and meet Shoma’s eyes. ‘Shoma? Shoma, I need you to look at me, ok?’ Shoma blinked slowly, his forehead creasing in confusion as he looked into Brian’s face with owlish softness, eyes wide and lips parting. He watched him for a beat, and Brian looked back at him somewhat expectantly, his face red and his eyes concerned. There was a pinch to the muscles of his cheeks that spoke to half his mind being somewhere else, and Shoma realised they were both breathing harshly, their breath misting into the cold night air and swirling around them. Shoma’s gaze drifted over Brian’s shoulder to a smudge of movement at the corner of his vision; in amongst the mismatched group of ministry officials in their suits and Foundation workers in paint-spattered overalls, Tracy stood in deep discussion with a cluster of men in what looked like medical uniforms, and there, through the bodies, Shoma could see a streak of pale, white watercolour, held up by Ghislain and Javier, head lolling on Javier’s shoulder and skin so pale it seemed to shine beneath the moon’s light. Shoma felt his breath catch in his throat, and Brian’s grip on him tightened slightly as he attempted to manoeuvre his body into Shoma’s eyeline, blocking the scene behind from view. ‘Shoma,’ he said again, and Shoma turned his eyes up to him, squirming slightly against his hold, still trying to move around him to where Yuzuru was, but Brian held him steady, something patient and caring in his gaze that Shoma didn’t want to register.  
‘I want to see him – let me go,’ he managed, and Brian sighed, closing his eyes for a beat but still holding Shoma as steady as he could.  
‘Shoma, please, I need you to listen to me right now, ok?’

Before Brian could continue, there was the sound of fast footsteps across the grass behind them, and Kanako and Satoko came to a breathy halt either side of Shoma, Kanako instinctively reaching out to place a calming hand on Shoma’s back as she stepped up to his side.  
‘What’s going on, Brian?’ she asked, all bravado Shoma knew she didn’t entirely feel. ‘Is Yuzu back? They found him?’  
‘Why can’t Shoma see him?’ Satoko asked more quietly, something faint and sad edging her tone, as though a part of her suspected the answer but didn’t want to hear it confirmed. Brian sighed, heavy and deep, and the sound went through Shoma as sharply as the midnight air, finally stilling him and refocusing his gaze on Brian’s face.  
‘Yuzu is safe, ok? We got him, he’s…he’s still breathing…’ Brian’s voice caught on the words, and he winced, looking down with a small shake of his head. Shoma flinched at the implications of the seemingly positive statement.  
‘Still breathing but?’ Kanako prompted shakily. Brian sighed.  
‘Look…he’s in pretty bad shape, honestly. He was out in it a lot longer than last time, and he had to put up a bigger fight.’ Brian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he looked back up, his expression all concern again as he met Shoma’s gaze. ‘He’s going to be ok, Shoma. We got there in time – I’m pretty confident of that. But…there’s other injuries, his power is almost gone as far as we can tell. Tracy is going to have to put in a lot of preliminary work just to get him fit enough for the other Healers to come in – we can’t risk overwhelming his sensing power, not even for the sake of healing the rest of him.’ Brian was fighting to keep is voice measured – but Shoma could feel his energy, could feel the fractures in it, and it would’ve raised his own panic if it wasn’t for the fact he could still hear drums in his ears, faint and soft but still so Yuzuru. Even now he was reaching out to him, calling out to him – Shoma couldn’t ignore him, refused to doubt him for a moment. Brian attempted a thin, tight smile. ‘Shoma, I know this is hard – believe me, I know…Yuzu is…he’s-’ Brian’s voice wavered and he cut himself off with a purse of his lips, shaking his head slightly and turning his eyes up to the sky for a beat as he gathered himself. ‘But he’s a fighter, ok? You know that as well as I do. And what we owe to him is to keep ourselves in shape to help him fight.’ Shoma looked over Brian’s shoulder, his eyes following Ghislain and Javier as they carried Yuzuru away, and Brian sighed again, frustrated but sympathetic. ‘Shoma, you’re exhausted, ok? You’ve been travelling, you’ve been worrying about Yuzu, dealing with all this fallout…and even though I know it’s the last thing you want to do right now? We really, really need you to rest as best you can. Because honestly? You’re one of the best Healers we’ve got here. Strong, persistent, honest…no one’s power is as total as yours, and no one’s power seems to bring as much to Yuzu either. Which means you will be vital to us – when the time is right. But we can’t put your health in danger by letting you use as much of your power as Yuzu is going to need just now, not without the proper rest beforehand, ok?’  
‘But, Brian, can’t he at least see him?’ Kanako said softly, rubbing Shoma’s back sympathetically, and Brian cast a glance over his shoulder, watching Tracy whilst she issued instructions to someone on the phone as she followed Javier and Ghislain away. ‘He just needs the reassurance – he came all the way back here…’ Brian looked at Shoma thoughtfully, taking in his wet hair and pale face – Shoma already knew what he was going to say.  
‘Shoma-’ he began, stopping sharply at Shoma’s scowling wince. Shoma half-glared at him, struggling against him slightly once again and huffing in frustration as Brian steadied him. ‘I’m so sorry to do this to you, I really am – but I have to try to work in _everyone’s_ best interests, ok? You _and_ Yuzu need the break, Shoma; we don’t even know for sure how his power might react to yours, and when he’s in this kind of shape we can’t take the risk.’  
‘But how does this do him good? How is he supposed just walk away and go to sleep when he knows Yuzu’s right there?’ Satoko said, and Brian gave her a sad, resigned smile.  
‘I’m sorry, I really am – but right now…’ He sighed, looking from Satoko to Kanako sadly. ‘Look, I know I have no right to ask a favour of you both but…do you think you could take Shoma somewhere? Maybe get some of the rest of Team Japan together and just…sit with him for a while? Keep him calm, try and get him to rest…’

Shoma had stopped listening. Instead he was looking over Brian’s shoulder again, his gaze wandering to the rota blades of the helicopter; even though the helicopter itself seemed to be taking off, the blades were slowing, moving in a heavy, underwater blur that Shoma found hypnotizing and strangely familiar. It reminded him of Singapore – of standing beside Yuzuru as their powers pushed and pulled against each other in search of a rhythm, making time jar and slow around them, stopping and starting and twisting until they were the only things in the whole city that weren’t in slow-motion. Curious, he turned to look at Satoko beside him, and he realised she was speaking, but no sound was coming out – her movements were so steady they were almost imperceptible, her ponytail swooping behind her in a soft, slow arch as she shook her head in half-speed. He turned to Kanako, gazing at her for a moment and watching as it took her an eternity just to nod her head. Shoma blinked. Everything around him was in slow motion – and, without Yuzuru’s power to rein his in, Shoma suspected time would just get steadily slower until it stopped. Sluggish and tired though his power was, it was still a boundless force, and he could feel the flood of it through his system as it rose to the surface; Yuzuru’s power was as its weakest, but in its own way it still directed Shoma’s, channelled it – the distant echo of it drew Shoma’s power out, but it also calmed his energy, made him feel steady enough to gauge his own power for once, to actively make the choice to follow its instincts.

Deciding to test the limits of his own control, Shoma reached up, carefully bringing his hand in front of his face and focusing as hard as he could, clicking his fingers once, sharp and quick. Brian stilled in a heartbeat, and a tiny, overwhelmed smile touched Shoma’s lips. He looked to either side of him, glancing at Kanako and then Satoko before holding his hands out, one in front of each of them. He took a deep breath, then clicked his fingers again. Both the girls stilled, and Shoma let out a small, giddy laugh, feeling dizzy and nervous and hopeful all at once. He swallowed the emotion down, taking a moment to steady himself before carefully, quietly slipping out and away across the grass. He moved quickly, running again but this time more gracefully, his footsteps soft and purposeful as he made his way towards where he knew Tracy would have taken Yuzuru.

He had never been to the Foundation’s hospital small hospital before; he only knew how to find it because Yuzuru had told him about how he used to sneak out when he got bored after he’d been trapped there for days on end following his last encounter with the Snatchers. There were no regular staff, only the Foundation’s on-site doctor, whose usual office was in the mentors’ building, and the space was really only used for the odd illness or infection that most Healers weren’t able to treat – but when more serious incidents occurred, Tracy was the one who would take charge, taking people up to one of the hospital beds to heal them somewhere quiet and private and give them time to recuperate in a place where the effects of any injuries on their power could be monitored with the correct equipment. The whole of the hospital only took up one floor at the top of the third of the Foundation’s main skyscrapers, and as Shoma stepped through the lift doors and out into the dimness of the shiny, clinical corridor, he didn’t need to look far to work out where to find Tracy and Yuzuru.

There was only one light on along the main corridor, as far as Shoma could see, and he paused by the open doorway it was coming from, glancing tentatively in and sucking in a sharp breath as he saw Tracy standing there – she was caught in the same curious half-speed as everything else had been, reaching up to a shelf of medical supplies with an expression that was all urgency but a treacle-slow reaction that seemed to get slower the more Shoma watched. He swallowed, stepped quickly past the open door and pressed his back to the wall, closing his eyes and clicking his fingers. When he leaned around to check, Tracy had been frozen perfectly in time. He blew out a breath. Only one other door was open, moonlight filtering out into the dull shadows of the corridor like a beacon, and Shoma felt something in his chest skip and then knot up tightly; he was all fear and determination, exhaustion and longing, but his power was moved by something else, something he didn’t dare put a name to even though he knew everyone else already had for him. He pushed off the wall and bit at his lip – it felt like gravity, but he knew it wasn’t as inescapable as that no matter how it felt. This had become a choice, somewhere along the way. Like always, when it came to Yuzuru, it was only inevitable because Shoma had decided that was how he wanted it to be – an indelible mark he could choose to ignore but didn’t want to any longer. With every step the rest of the world seemed to grow stiller, quieter, more distant, and Shoma quickened his pace against the thick, heavy tide of it, moving single-mindedly towards the open doorway.

When he saw him, he was bathed in moonlight, a perfect rectangle of it that came in through the room’s large window; he was framed by the darkness, beautiful and broken and frighteningly slender against the crispness of the bed’s white sheets. He was so pale he almost seemed translucent under the glow of the moonlight, like some sort of unearthly jellyfish, his edges bright but undefined – he should’ve been all sallow greys and bruises, should’ve been nothing but a clay shadow of the Yuzuru Shoma knew, and yet, through Shoma’s eyes, he was still all iridescence, the absent colour in his skin giving way to a different light that shone within him, all green and pink and purple hues that bled into each other and shimmered through his veins like lightning. He was barely there and yet he was still a storm; for all that he was vulnerable, he was somehow still glorious, a swipe of black paint and elbows, thin and pretty and full up with stubborn survival. Still there, despite the odds; still flawed and messy and stubborn – like some brilliant dream that Shoma couldn’t quite process. 

‘ _Yuzu_.’ He let it out like a wish – or rather, not just a wish, but a promise. A declaration. Another choice. He crossed the room with a conflicted mixture of urgency and hesitation, something staccato to his movements as he came closer to where Yuzuru was lying and saw, for the first time, the mud and blossom petals still stuck to his ghostly skin. He crawled up to sit beside him and reached out with nervous fingers, his breath catching as he felt a spark of lightning run through him the moment his fingertips grazed Yuzuru’s cheek; he felt cold like Shoma had never known him before, his energy terrifyingly still, and Shoma’s breath quickened, turning ragged as tears prickled his eyes. ‘Please, Yuzuru,’ he whispered, edging nervously closer and not having it in him to care at the way his voice hitched and cracked over the words. ‘I asked you to come back…and you didn’t promise but…you said you’d try. So try.’ He swallowed hard, running his fingers along Yuzuru’s jawline and down his neck, drawing in a sharp, shaky breath and closing his eyes as his hand came to rest over Yuzuru’s heart. ‘ _Please_.’ There was some of his power in the word, Shoma could feel it, but there was so much feeling mixed up in it that he found it overwhelming, something inside finally buckling under the weight of everything. He felt a tear roll down his cheek and he closed his eyes, letting himself curl forwards, his body instinctively winding around Yuzuru’s to rest his head against his chest. He could hear his heartbeat, the horrid scratch and rattle of his shallow breathing – familiar and not at the same time – and it ached, made him bite down hard on his lip and shut his eyes tighter.

The air was heavy and slow outside the room, but where the two of them were it had grown cooler, something musky and fresh stirring up like a spring breeze; wood smoke and cherry blossom still clung to Yuzuru’s clothes, but Shoma could feel the rose and citrus of the garden, stirring up memories like butterfly wings all around them. He risked opening his eyes just a little, drawing in a breath and feeling something just beneath his skin flutter and shake; through his eyelashes he could see gold light where his hand touched Yuzuru’s chest, gold light which seemed to grow brighter with every breath. Shoma felt strangely detached, like he was watching from outside himself as the light steadily began to spread – he could feel the warmth of it creeping over his skin, gold filling up his chest and pushing out into the room, engulfing his and Yuzuru’s outlines, but even as he lifted his head just slightly to watch, a part of him couldn’t quite connect to the immense flood of healing power and the raw knot of sunlight, even as it grew larger inside his chest. He sniffed, wetting his lips and hesitantly looking up into Yuzuru’s face; his eyes were still closed, dark lashes in neat fans along pale skin, but his lips were pink again, a hint of their dangerous, hypnotising curl returning as some of the high, warm blush of his cheeks grew stronger. Not daring to let himself hope too strongly, Shoma drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes and resting his head back down once again, pressing his hand a little harder to Yuzuru’s chest. ‘Please, Yuzu. _Please_.’ He swallowed down the lump in his throat and ignored the damp salt of tears stinging the ruddy patches on his cheeks as he let his whole being lean into the ache, allowing himself to fall into the familiarity of Yuzuru’s body, to know something that was so almost all of him. ‘ _I believe in you_.’

Shoma let himself collapse around the feeling; he surrendered completely, pouring his power out and letting himself feel nothing but the steadily-strengthening sensation of Yuzuru’s chest rising and falling beneath him, the warmth of gold growing brighter all around. His skin buzzed, and at his back he felt the soft swish of ribbons, tying and untying, criss-crossing over the two of them in sweeps of silk and lightning. He pressed his palm flat and curled in tighter, fitting his body to Yuzuru’s and blocking out any trace of the rest of the world, letting energies and oceans fall away in place of the steady build of piano and thunder, slowly letting out the softest whimper. And, to his surprise, in return he heard a faint hum – the vibration of it stronger than the sound itself. 

There was a pause in which Shoma didn’t move, holding himself in and not daring to hope. And then, finally, Yuzuru drew in a sharp breath. Shoma blinked his eyes open cautiously, turning his head against Yuzuru’s chest and straining to look up at him through his lashes; all he could see was the blunt full-stop of his chin where the sharpness of his jawline came to a sudden halt, a faint scar against the skin there from another one of his too-easily-spent nine lives – he was a wet blur of a person, all long neck and flyaway black hair. And then suddenly Shoma felt rough fingers brush along his cheek.  
‘Sho.’ It was groggy, soft, but the effect on Shoma was no less intense, and a damp, shaky breath caught in his throat. His name had been made into a spell once more; Yuzuru’s most powerful trick, as always, was to bend a simple sound into something magical, setting off the paper planes inside Shoma’s ribcage. Shoma lifted his head, slow and cautious; somehow the whole world suddenly felt fragile. His hair was sticking up at awkward angles, some of it still damp enough from the rain to be plastered to his forehead in messy tendrils, and there were low, purpling patches of a blush still at the line of his jaw from where the cold had bitten at him as he ran, his skin was creased from being pressed so close to Yuzuru for so long, salt-water tracks on his cheeks and tears still clinging to his long, dark lashes; he knew he looked a state. But Yuzuru’s eyes were bright, even as he blinked some remnants of sleep away, and he looked at Shoma like every flaw was a masterpiece – he took him all in, his eyes studying him like there was text written into the lines of his face, like he was something else he could learn too deeply and chase with wholehearted enthusiasm. His smile was like sunlight through the trees on a lazy afternoon; calm, whispering and without demand, his lips curving up at the corners and his dark eyes widening just a little, sparkling like a sheen of raindrops had landed across his suddenly-bright, dewy face. Shoma’s breath hitched and caught inside his chest as he felt Yuzuru’s fingerprints drag fondly along the dark blush at his jaw. It was a wonderful, brutal feeling – to be looked at like that again, to be touched like that again. Yuzuru drew just a little closer, his body warm once more and his lightning coming alive. ‘Shoma,’ he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners in gentle joy and fascination. ‘You’re here.’ Shoma let out a wet laugh, sniffing and rolling his eyes.  
‘Where did you expect me to be, Hanyu?’ His breath stuttered slightly, his ribs forgetting how to expand and contract the way they should and getting caught half way as he looked into Yuzuru’s ridiculously delighted face. ‘You couldn’t go one weekend without drama, huh?’ he managed, his voice tight and thin and the small, wonderous curl of his smile giving him away. Yuzuru laughed, soft and warm, and he leant in to rest his forehead against Shoma’s, his thumb stroking his cheek. Shoma melted into the touch instinctively, his eyes closing against the rough gentleness of Yuzuru’s fingers.  
‘I lasted the weekend, Shoma,’ Yuzuru protested in a murmur. ‘I’m pretty sure it was Monday already before things got…difficult.’ Shoma smiled slightly as Yuzuru punctuated the remark with a soft kiss to his forehead, his hands moving to smooth down Shoma’s hair into some order or other only he understood. ‘I fell asleep,’ he added ruefully, and Shoma opened his eyes to look up into his face, laughing slightly at the sheepish wrinkle of his nose. He sniffed back another threat of tears, shaking his head and glancing down at his hands in his lap.  
‘Yeah well…so did I,’ he mumbled, lifting one shoulder in an attempt at a dismissive shrug he knew wouldn’t convince.

There was a moment of intense hush, a weight of a hundred memories and moments hanging in the air, ghosts of fear and longing that Shoma wasn’t sure he was ready to let linger just yet. And then Yuzuru touched a finger to his chin. Shoma looked up into his face immediately, drawing closer without needing to think about it – his muscles remembered this, every cell in his body remembered this. How to be drawn to him, how to fit against him. He let in that same feeling of desperate want which had risen to the surface of his skin when he had been trying to push his power out to reach the Grey Zone, when he had stopped time on the playing field and when he’d let his healing power overtake him – only now it had what it wanted. Yuzuru. Close, dark-eyed, warm. Looking at him, eyelids heavy and lips just a little chapped. Shoma knew what was coming, but Yuzuru made him wait, drawing out the pause between them and holding his gaze until, at last, he shifted, leaning in to capture Shoma’s lips with his own.

The kiss was soft and slow, Yuzuru’s touch featherlight and his lips gentle against Shoma’s as he pulled him closer. Shoma closed his eyes and sighed into his body, his hands curling against Yuzuru’s skin as Yuzuru’s fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, running along his jawline then dancing along the curve of his ear. His body was still sinewy and elegant against the sturdiness of Shoma’s own – he pushed briefly at Shoma’s chest then dropped his hand lower, pulling at his waist, bony fingers digging in before he hesitated for just a second. Shoma let out a small whimper of protest, his eyes opening to gaze, unfocusedly, up at Yuzuru, who smiled slightly and reached up to brush a tear away from the corner of his eye, grazing his eyelashes just slightly and looking at him with aching tenderness. When he leant in again it was to press a kiss to the same spot, and Shoma closed his eyes, humming lightly as Yuzuru’s mouth pressed against his cheekbone, his jaw, the corner of his lips. He felt Yuzuru pull at him once more, his nails digging into his waist slightly as he tugged him practically onto his lap.  
‘Too short,’ he complained against Shoma’s lips, sweetly petulant and breathless, and Shoma laughed slightly, reaching up to thump his fist weakly against Yuzuru’s chest by way of resistance.  
‘Too _tall_ ,’ he shot back, soft and sighing. ‘Leggy, bony…whiny.’ Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him slightly, and Shoma’s eyes shone, his lips twisting in fond amusement as he arched back just a little and watched Yuzuru chase, pouting when Shoma pulled still further away.  
‘Shoma,’ Yuzuru complained in a murmur, insistent and musical, and Shoma melted instantly, the tension going from his body as he let Yuzuru pull him back in, his hand cupping his cheek as he kissed him again, honey-sweet. ‘You taste of sea salt and war.’ Shoma hummed.  
‘And you still taste of spring.’ Yuzuru smiled against his lips, his fingers tickling and light as they ghosted down the curve of Shoma’s neck.

When Yuzuru finally drew away again his eyes were so dark they almost looked black in the shadows, a starlight brightness twinkling there, clear and dazzling even to Shoma’s sore-eyed gaze; Shoma knew he was staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Yuzuru kissed the tip of his nose, his temple, his cheek, and Shoma let him, watched him, breathed him in – heavy-limbed and peaceful, full-up and wildly alive.  
‘Thank you,’ Yuzuru murmured against his temple, pulling back to look into his face with a quiet smile. Shoma’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, and Yuzuru’s lips turned up in a gentle, crooked smile as he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘For bringing me home.’ A small smile touched Shoma’s lips at that, and he shrugged too, looking down somewhat shyly.  
‘Oh…then…thank you too, I guess,’ he breathed, looking up at Yuzuru from under his fringe. Yuzuru frowned, head tilting curiously, and Shoma rolled his eyes, biting his lip. ‘For bringing me home as well.’ There was a small pause, and when Shoma looked up uncertainly, Yuzuru smiled, leaning their foreheads together and cupping Shoma’s face in his hand, the pad of his thumb brushing gently at the corner of his eye.  
‘What happened to forgetting, huh? To leaving the Foundation behind for your own story?’ he asked, somehow managing to sound only gentle, not a hint of accusation to be found in his voice. Shoma smiled almost wryly, letting out a slow breath.  
‘That was…a mistake.’ He swallowed. ‘I realised I can’t tell my story from the sidelines; I belong in the fight. I belong next to you.’ Yuzuru’s thumb stroked along his skin again, dragging across the curves of his face, soothing and unjudging, a simple reminder of presence and nothing more. Shoma looked up at him slowly. ‘I will always have a place with my family…but…that isn’t it, for me. Because I have you. And you’re my home too.’ He shrugged. ‘I know one day I might wake up and…and find you’re not there anymore. But whatever happens…it can’t take away that I was here once. With you. And that it was everything.’ His smile was shy, and he could feel the blush in his cheeks – he knew Yuzuru must feel it too, burning beneath the coolness of his fingers, but he bit his lip, strangely at peace with it as he closed his eyes, embarrassed but too happy to care. ‘I belong with you. Not because the universe told me to – but because I chose it. I’ve felt what it was like to not have you with me, and…now I choose the other option. _I choose you_.’

The quiet seemed to stretch out between them, washed in moonlight and memories, and Shoma felt the anchor of Yuzuru’s energy in his chest, wrapping around his own power in loose tendrils of thundercloud. He opened his eyes, hesitant and slow, and when he met Yuzuru’s gaze he felt his heart turn over in his chest – there was reflected sunlight in his eyes, pure warmth and understanding in the soft, unguarded expression on his face. This was a still, sighing, soft Yuzuru, a Yuzuru no one else had ever held or known or listened to – a Yuzuru out of reach from the rest of the world, a version of him which had been broken down and dragged off into the midnight shadows, hidden and beaten back and denied. And yet here he was. Flesh and blood and steadily breathing. Still alive, somehow. And entirely Shoma’s.  
‘You asked me to come back,’ Yuzuru said, simple and low, his eyes intent on Shoma’s own. ‘So I did.’ His mouth briefly twisted in a ghost of a smile. ‘Because you’re my choice too, Shoma.’ He sucked slightly at his bottom lip, studying Shoma’s face. ‘You always were. Even if I wasn’t yours too.’ Shoma lifted his eyes, slow and distant, and he reached up, pressing his thumb to the sore spot on Yuzuru’s bottom lip and pushing at it just hard enough to heal it. He stared at it for a moment, and Yuzuru let him – still open, still entirely surrendered.

This time it was Shoma who leant in for the kiss, quicker and more ragged than the last, his cracked lips harsh and jagged against Yuzuru’s softer mouth and his hands curling into fists at his neck, his nails digging into his palm as he gave in to the full force of his fear and relief and longing. Yuzuru braced himself with one hand, leaning his weight back as Shoma knelt up, forcing him to tip his head back; Shoma made him strain just a little to kiss him, cupping his face and pulling back to look at him for a moment, tracing his fingers along the shadows beneath his eyes, the soft lines of his eyelashes. He held himself just above him, and Yuzuru let him, trusting and patient. Shoma smiled softly, eyes all wonder and hope, and then he moved back in with a rush of acceptance. He kissed the bridge of his nose, the corner of his eye, the shell of his ear. His chin. His neck. Back up to his temple, his eyelids. Yuzuru made no attempt to stop him, allowing Shoma to trail kisses along one cheekbone and then the other, down the line of his neck, over his Adam’s apple and his collar bone – seeming to know just how badly Shoma needed every inch of it. And then, silently, tenderly, Yuzuru eventually reached his hands up – firm and guiding as he took Shoma’s face in them, leaning back as though he were trying to steady him. He looked into his eyes with a soft, kind expression – something unreadable in his gaze as he rested their foreheads together – and his hold was just firm enough to keep Shoma still against him.  
‘Shoma.’ Shoma swallowed, pursing his lips and blinking quickly, looking down in an effort not to cry again; Yuzuru had a silent “I know” in his eyes as his thumbs pressed gently at the corners of Shoma’s eyes. ‘Look at me.’ It was that way Yuzuru had of commanding attention – a quieter, gentler, more private version of the head-turning aura of control and majesty, focused down and so entirely levelled at Shoma that it was impossible to deny. Shoma rested his hands against Yuzuru’s chest, feeling the reassurance of his ribcage rising and falling beneath his palms, and then slowly, carefully he looked up into Yuzuru’s face; Yuzuru’s lips curved into a delicate, pink little smile that was entirely at odds with the force and solidity of his body, and Shoma’s breath hitched. ‘Shoma, I’m here, ok?’ Yuzuru moved to kiss his forehead then rested back against him. ‘I’m real and I’m here. With you.’ Shoma swallowed down the hot, hard ball of emotion which rose up in his chest, and Yuzuru grazed his knuckles along his cheek. ‘You believed in me enough to get me here. So just…believe in me now, huh? Stop looking for proof and just trust what you feel.’ Shoma bit so hard at his bottom lip he tasted blood, tears prickling his eyes again as he nodded slowly against Yuzuru, whose hands moved to his waist, holding him lightly in place.  
‘I couldn’t sense you,’ Shoma let out, the sound ragged and tight, and Yuzuru hummed, squeezing at Shoma’s waist. Shoma closed his eyes, drawing in a painful breath. ‘I couldn’t sense you, and I was so scared.’ He let all his weight lean against Yuzuru, and Yuzuru took it, humming again and kissing the side of his face, leaning there a moment as Shoma fought to even out his breathing. ‘I thought I’d lost you. For good. And I’d wasted all that time missing you – pretending not to miss you – instead of just…being with you.’ Shoma opened his eyes and pulled back to meet Yuzuru’s eyes. ‘I was so scared,’ he breathed, achingly soft as finally the tears began to fall, and Yuzuru nodded, slow and understanding, reaching up to wipe them away with his sleeve.  
‘You didn’t waste time, Shoma – you were always with me,’ he told him, low and rough but so sincere it was almost wounding. ‘Sunlight behind cloud is still sunlight.’ He shrugged. ‘But now I’m here. With you. And I’m yours.’ Shoma swallowed, looking at him with wide, uncertain eyes, and Yuzuru simply smiled back, shaking his head slightly and tucking some of Shoma’s hair behind his ear with another light hum. ‘For however long we have, however long we’ve had until now – nothing was wasted, Shoma, not if it got us here. Together, even when we were apart.’

Yuzuru kissed him again then, shorter but no less tender, his body all thrum and motion, electric beneath Shoma’s fingers as they wound themselves together once more, Yuzuru’s eyelashes tickling Shoma’s skin. Yuzuru was music, and he made Shoma feel like music too; his whole body was alive with it, his skin warm and electricity dancing through him. To feel the force of his body again was forgiveness and hope and restoration, promises and storms and the whisper of spring; where the hollow absence had been before, Shoma now felt heat pressing at his ribs. Yuzuru pulled him close, and Shoma saw gold behind his eyelids, relished the buzz of every fingerprint. A kiss was pressed to his temple, another to his chin, colours dancing over Shoma’s skin in blushes of light as Yuzuru found his lips again. ‘Shoma.’ Yuzuru drew back with a gentle sigh, and Shoma opened his eyes somewhat hazily, pulling away just enough to meet Yuzuru’s gaze; he was smiling, something mischievous about the light in his eyes, gold flecks shimmering amidst dark brown. ‘Shoma, look,’ Yuzuru breathed, eyes widening just a little, and he tipped his head towards the windows with a soft, giddy little laugh that made Shoma’s ribs constrict. He groggily lifted his gaze to where Yuzuru was looking, taking a moment to process what he was seeing before he let out a wet, faint laugh of his own. Yuzuru’s smile was wild and brilliant as he cast Shoma a sidelong glance, reaching out a hand and lacing their fingers together. ‘ _Sunrise_.’ And he was right: misty light, all watercolour gold and damp amber, the whole painted sky above the Foundation cloudless and clear and a single, determined bird making its way out against the morning breeze. Scrubbed out orange. Milky yellow. A blush of grey. Morning had begun – chasing away the ghosts of the night before.

Shoma laughed again, overwhelmed, and he sniffed slightly, looking back at Yuzuru and leaning in to press a single chaste kiss to his lips.  
‘You’re-’  
‘Ridiculous,’ Yuzuru finished with a put upon sigh, eyes gleaming as he let out a bubble of laughter and pulled Shoma close for another kiss, and Shoma sighed, exhausted and content, letting Yuzuru drag him back further and further until they both fell against the pillows, their bodies thudding dully together, Shoma fitting himself neatly against the slight concave of Yuzuru’s chest and leaning up just enough to look into his face.  
‘You’re ridiculous,’ he said again, taking in the way the pastel dawn softened his features and seemed to make him glow. ‘You’re so ridiculous.’ He pushed up and captured his lips in a soft kiss. ‘And I hate you so much.’ His eyes closed as he dropped back down and tucked his head beneath Yuzuru’s chin with a sigh. ‘Even though…I could never hate you.’ He swallowed and pressed himself flush against Yuzuru’s body, smiling slightly as he felt him drop a kiss to the top of his head, his arms wrapping around him protectively. ‘I’m too glad you’re here to hate you.’ Shoma yawned and curled in. ‘You and your dumb sense of timing.’  
‘I like to make a scene,’ Yuzuru remarked idly, and Shoma laughed into his chest.  
‘I’d noticed,’ he mumbled. He could practically hear Yuzuru’s smile.

Shoma felt himself drifting, sinking into the peace, and Yuzuru held him just tightly enough to feel anchored – safe in ways no one else could make him feel. It was as though he could sense heavy tree roots growing around them, grounding the moment in earth and memory – the kind of memory that kept things alive long after everything in them was gone.  
‘Shoma, can you sense that?’ The question was reverent and hushed, like Yuzuru didn’t want to disturb the quiet, and Shoma’s brow creased.  
‘Sense what?’ he asked, lifting to look up at Yuzuru through half-closed eyes, and Yuzuru smiled, altogether too awake amidst the dawn haze.  
‘ _Exactly_.’ Shoma’s frown deepened and Yuzuru pursed his lips, eyes shining with knowing excitement. ‘There is nothing to sense but us.’ He shrugged as best he could with Shoma in his arms. ‘The whole of the Foundation is…stopped. It’s only you and me.’ Shoma blinked for a beat before closing his eyes and reaching out with his power, finding, to his amazement, that Yuzuru was right. For miles and miles, there was only sunlight and lightning, knitted together too tightly to be distinguished between clearly but so total in the air it was impossible for anyone else to be around. Shoma smiled, faint and overwhelmed, opening his eyes again to look at Yuzuru thoughtfully.  
‘Is it wrong that I wish it could stay like this?’ His voice was rough and soft, exhaustion giving him away entirely, and Yuzuru felt it, touching his fingers to his forehead. Shoma closed his eyes against the welcome familiarity of Yuzuru’s healing. ‘This way I get to keep you…this way you’re just mine and not the whole world’s all the time.’ Yuzuru hummed, shifting down along the pillow until their eyes were level, their bodies facing each other.  
‘In here? It is always like this,’ he told him, quiet and sure as he tapped a finger to his chest. ‘In here? I _am_ yours. Always.’ Shoma’s features pinched slightly, and Yuzuru smiled, touching a finger to his chin. ‘I belong entirely to myself and always have; but to be safe enough to be entirely myself like that? To feel safe to belong that way? Then…I can only belong to you.’ He shrugged, like it was nothing, but Shoma felt a bubble of air trap itself inside his chest, making it hard to breathe. ‘I told you: you are always with me. And I don’t say anything I don’t mean.’ Shoma took a shuddering breath, nodding slightly and shifting just a little closer, placing a hand on Yuzuru’s waist.  
‘I feel the same,’ he croaked, his voice almost giving out on him. He glanced down, shaking his head slightly. ‘When I was a kid…I used to stay up whenever there was thunder. I liked to watch the patterns the lightning made in the sky.’ Yuzuru smiled, kissing his forehead.  
‘Shoma, you little storm chaser,’ he breathed, and Shoma laughed softly, looking up into his eyes with a shy shrug.  
‘Yeah, well…maybe I knew what I could sense out there, deep down. Maybe I was just chasing after you all along, looking in all the wrong places.’ Yuzuru’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he let out a contemplative sigh, fingers playing absently with the collar of Shoma’s shirt.  
‘The last night I ever saw my hometown in colour? It was a storm. Pretty but temperamental. Unpredictable beauty.’ Shoma smiled, nodding slowly.  
‘But the clouds were all at the edges of the sky – you still got to see the stars.’  
‘ _So many stars_ , Shoma.’ Yuzuru’s smile gentled, and he ran his finger along Shoma’s collar bone with a sigh. ‘I knew something was coming, I could feel it…there was loss in the earth and a warning in the rain…and I yet I couldn’t bring myself to worry about it. Because there were too many stars to count. And the moon was so bright overhead.’ He shrugged, meeting Shoma’s eyes. ‘I knew it meant the sun was still up there somewhere – so how could I be scared of anything when, somewhere out beyond, unseen but unwavering, there was still so much light?’ Shoma bit his lip, his smile shy and fond at the same time as he regarded Yuzuru from under his lashes.  
‘You’re amazing, you know that?’ Yuzuru wrinkled his nose.  
‘I’m ok, I guess,’ he dismissed, and Shoma laughed, shaking his head and burrowing close.  
‘No. Amazing. And I’m going to deny it next time you’re being whiney when I just want to sleep, or giving me a headache over some dumb theory you don’t want to let go of. Maybe I’m even going to deny it in five minutes’ time, honestly. But it’s still true.’ Yuzuru laughed, soft and quiet, and he kissed Shoma’s forehead lightly.  
‘Ah, but you’re amazing too, Shoma. There is no amazing in me that isn’t also in you.’

Carefully he traced the curves of Shoma’s face, following the line of the dawn’s warmth as it drifted over his skin, and Shoma let out a soft, exhausted moan, leaning into the touch. ‘What do you want, Shoma?’ Yuzuru asked him, low and clear, and Shoma was too content, too sleepy and warm and relieved to hide behind any half-answers. He swallowed and closed his eyes with a sigh.  
‘Just to hold you,’ he admitted. ‘Just…to be you and me for a while and not…two pieces of some puzzle in the universe.’ Yuzuru hummed, gentle and accepting, and Shoma blinked his eyes open as he felt him take his hand.  
‘Ok,’ he told him. ‘Then just…hold me.’ Shoma frowned slightly, but Yuzuru simply smiled, lifting their joined hands and turning over, pulling Shoma’s arm with him so that their clasped hands were held against his chest and Shoma’s cheek was pressed to his back. ‘Just you and me,’ Yuzuru whispered, squeezing Shoma’s hand, and Shoma smiled, drawing himself impossibly close and sinking back against the pillow. He could hear Yuzuru’s heartbeat, could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it made him feel whole and understood – fixed in place, without any notion of doubt. He let his eyes close, his body fitting against Yuzuru’s comfortably as his muscles untensed and his head grew heavy with sleep.  
‘Thank you, Yuzu,’ he sighed into Yuzuru’s back, the words running into each other as he drifted. ‘I-’ He stopped, shaking his head slightly and letting out a huff. ‘I just really…I’m really glad you’re here.’ Yuzuru squeezed his hand again, pulling it more firmly against his chest.  
‘I know, Shoma. And I’m really glad you’re here too.’

Shoma fell asleep so deeply – so completely and so contentedly – that he was even more disgruntled than usual to be woken again all too soon. Although he was dimly aware of the sound of someone clearing their throat coming from the vicinity of the door, it was actually Yuzuru stirring beside him which finally forced him to open his eyes. As Yuzuru pushed himself up with a soft sigh of a yawn, Shoma found himself dislodged, and he let out a mumbling moan of complaint, rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his matted fringe; everything was a blurry haze, the light too bright and the room too stuffy.  
‘Would anyone like to explain to me how exactly it is that when I went into my supply closet it was pitch black outside, and by the time I made it out of my supply closet, somehow, it was morning?’ came a voice from the doorway, too gentle to be as annoyed as the words were trying to make it seem. Shoma rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and lifted his head just slightly to look at the person speaking. Although they were only a blur to him, he still knew it was Tracy; he recognised the mixture of immense care and patience in her energy.  
‘Um…’ Yuzuru glanced down at Shoma, who yawned and shrugged unhelpfully. ‘Magic?’ he suggested, looking back up at Tracy with a lopsided smile, his face scrunched up in a faintly chagrined wince, all frivolous innocence, like the universe hadn’t almost chewed him up and spit him out just a few hours ago. Shoma pushed himself upright with a groan, stretching slightly and then flopping lazily back against Yuzuru’s side with a whimper.  
‘What time is it?’ he asked, still groggy and only half processing what was happening.  
‘Well that depends, Shoma,’ Tracy replied, and Shoma blinked a couple of times, closing one eye and then the other as he looked over at her blurry outline. ‘Would you like the time it says on my watch, or the time I imagine the rest of the country believes it to be…?’ Yuzuru shot Shoma a ridiculously fond smile, smothering a laugh and resting his head against him, his elbow digging gently into his side. ‘Shoma,’ Tracy said, folding her arms and fixing him with a piercing look that he shrank back from slightly, curling against Yuzuru’s side for protection. ‘Did you, by any chance, disobey a direct instruction from Brian to go and _rest_ before you saw Yuzuru?’ Shoma bit his lip.  
‘I mean…my power did most of the disobeying…I just…didn’t exactly tell it to…stop?’ he ventured, elbowing Yuzuru as he felt him struggle to stifle a laugh.  
‘Did you freeze Brian as well?’ Tracy asked, her voice gentling just a little, a resigned sigh creeping into her tone, and Shoma looked down sheepishly as Yuzuru pursed his lips, eyes glinting devilishly.  
‘I kind of…froze everyone?’ Shoma admitted in a mumble, and Tracy’s eyes widened in surprise. Shoma let out an embarrassed yet still indignant huff, rolling his eyes. ‘Not _deliberately_ it’s just…’ He attempted a glare at Yuzuru, who seemed to take pity on him, finding Shoma’s hand and taking it in his own. ‘My power knows Yuzu’s power,’ Shoma sighed. He glanced back at Tracy, lifting one shoulder in a shrug and biting at his lip. ‘Yuzu’s power was there again so…my power just reacted. I didn’t have a choice.’ Tracy smiled at him slightly, nodding somewhat sceptically and letting out a soft sigh.  
‘Hmm. As though if you had a choice you would’ve chosen differently,’ she said, eyes shining just a little. Shoma glanced down and Yuzuru squeezed his hand. ‘In fact, I think maybe a choice was involved somewhere here, Shoma: you chose to take your power’s lead, right? Instead of just going to bed and hoping the time stop wore off.’ Tracy sighed, a smile in her eyes as she shook her head slightly. ‘But…believe it or not? I think I understand.’ Her eyes twinkled as Shoma looked up at her in surprise, and she offered him a gentle shrug. ‘The impulse to go to someone who needs our help sometimes outweighs our own sense of self-preservation, huh?’ Shoma felt Yuzuru nudge him gently, and he looked up into his face with a shy smile. ‘You could’ve burned out, using all that power on no sleep, though: there was a reason we told you no, ok?’ Shoma simply bobbed his head in vague agreement, too tired to start to try to explain all the reasons he had been so absolutely sure of his choice.  
‘Actually, I think you should always trust Shoma’s power,’ Yuzuru put in, quiet but resolute, and Shoma looked at him in slight surprise, eyebrows raised. Yuzuru’s face remained placid, his lips curving up into an indistinct smile; there was almost no trace of what he had been through – the only clue was in the way he almost seemed to shimmer in the morning light, a faint, gossamer layer of Shoma’s magic still dancing over his skin. Yuzuru shrugged slightly, casting Shoma a sidelong glance that sent a thrill of lightning through his system. ‘Shoma’s power is rooted in what is true and steady. The honesty of sunlight in the face of whatever darkness is presented to him. When his power chooses a path? Then it’s as inevitable as the dawn.’ Shoma looked at Yuzuru as though there was a chance he’d dreamed him, and Yuzuru’s lips curved almost impishly as he met Shoma’s eyes. ‘Still here,’ he whispered. Shoma’s smile turned shy and he shook his head slightly, letting out a soft laugh and glancing away.

Yuzuru looked back over at Tracy then, tilting his head slightly as she looked at him, her head shaking just a little and her lips pressed together in an unreadable line; her eyes shone with a sheen of tears, and Shoma could sense the sudden, overwhelming rush of gratitude in her, a flood of relief and affection she had been trying to keep down with her attempt at discipline.  
‘Yuzu,’ she let out, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she laughed slightly and blinked the tears back as best she could. ‘Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,’ she managed, her voice caught and strained as she sniffed, rolling her eyes at herself briefly before quickly crossing the room to engulf Yuzuru in a warm, fierce hug. Yuzuru let out a soft, high squeak as he was crushed against her, and Shoma laughed slightly, pursing his lips and pretending not to notice the sweet, childish way Yuzuru proceeded to sink into the hug, his face briefly disappearing into the crook of Tracy’s neck. ‘You scared the life out of me,’ Tracy scolded him wetly, squeezing him a little more tightly and drawing another high, ridiculous sound out of Yuzuru as he squirmed in her grip.  
‘In my defence, it wasn’t my fault this time,’ he complained, his smile too soft for his indignation to be believed, and Shoma shot him a wicked smirk.  
‘You do realise the very fact you have to put “this time” on the end of that sentence is the reason everyone worries about you so much…right?’ he pointed out, and Yuzuru attempted a glare, pulling back from Tracy just a little and sticking his tongue out at him.  
‘Whose side are you on?’ he demanded. Shoma shrugged.  
‘Whatever side gets you to do that dumb pout that makes you look five years old?’ he suggested nonchalantly, leaning back on his hands, and Yuzuru huffed, turning his attention back to Tracy and trying to wriggle away from her hug once again.  
‘Tracy, I can’t breathe,’ he let out, and Shoma smothered a smirk. Somewhat reluctantly Tracy drew back, pausing with her hands still on Yuzuru’s shoulders as she looked him up and down, her face filled with the light of an overwhelmed smile but her eyes turning sharp and assessing, looking for every scrape and bruise, preparing herself for the worst, as though she might find the solidity of Yuzuru’s apparent health whipped away from her at any moment. Shoma could sympathise. ‘Tracy, I’m ok,’ Yuzuru said, gentle but sincere, and Tracy sighed, her expression pinching into a sceptical frown. ‘Seriously.’ She pursed her lips and Yuzuru let out a laugh of fond frustration, placing his hands on her arms and meeting her eyes. ‘Shoma healed me. I’m, like…better than ok.’ Shoma blushed slightly, shrinking back when Tracy glanced over at him, quirking an eyebrow thoughtfully.  
‘You healed him? All on your own?’ Shoma nodded slowly. ‘Whilst holding time across the whole Foundation?’ Shoma nodded again, sucking at the cut on his bottom lip and attempting to hide himself behind a mildly amused Yuzuru.  
‘Tracy,’ Yuzuru said, warning but gentle as he placed a hand on Shoma’s knee. ‘You know he’s powerful.’ Tracy narrowed her eyes slightly, tipping her head in reluctant agreement.  
‘True but…Yuzu…that is…’ She looked back to Shoma. ‘That is really something else.’ She offered Shoma a small, reassuring smile, shrugging as her lips twisted up a little more at one corner than the other. ‘All I’m saying is…that is some power, you know?’ She glanced back to Yuzuru, pointed and expectant, but Yuzuru shrugged effortlessly.  
‘Of course. Because he’s Shoma,’ he said, as though that explained everything, and Tracy narrowed her eyes at him.  
‘Yuzu, the last time it took us weeks – months – to get you back…and it took all our best Healers at the top of their abilities. This time…was a lot closer than the last, or it certainly looked it to me when they got you here.’ Shoma winced and Tracy looked between the two of them intently. ‘You have to admit…there’s reasons for me to wonder if there’s something you’re not telling me here.’  
‘Last time you didn’t have Shoma,’ Yuzuru stated softly. ‘He is strong and constant, like no other power here…no other power anywhere. I know because I can sense it. And our powers…they were made to fit. I can sense that too.’ He squeezed Shoma’s hand, and Shoma felt his heart turn over in a complicated series of somersaults. ‘The moment my power – what was left of my power – knew Shoma’s power was close again, it was like a lighthouse in a rainstorm; he healed me enough that I could help heal myself.’ Shoma looked up into his face in mild surprise, dark eyes wide and shining with a hesitant sort of wonder, and Yuzuru offered him a smile that was small but somehow full of feeling before turning back to Tracy with an idle sigh. ‘I promise: it’s different this time. You don’t have to worry about me. Or…about this anyway.’

For a moment Tracy continued to scrutinise Yuzuru’s face, those bright, kind eyes of hers, like always, seeing more than just what was on the surface; she had a way about her that coaxed out the child in him, the innocence and the calm that were usually masked by layers of determination and lightning.  
‘If you think for one moment this will get you out of all my tests and checks and power stability readings, you have another thing coming,’ she said at last, pulling back and staring Yuzuru down steadily as he whined in protest.  
‘But-’  
‘No. Arguments.’ She folded her arms again. ‘You are going to have a lot of work to do to convince _any_ of those of us who saw the state of you last night to believe you’re ok again that quickly, no complications or aftershocks and no hidden power secrets you think you don’t have to share.’  
‘You’ll see – you can run tests, but they’ll all tell you the same thing. I’m fine, I promise.’ He shrugged again, accepting yet still somehow defiant. ‘Actually? I’m better than fine: I’m _Shoma magic_ fine. It makes all the difference.’ Tracy smothered a laugh, shaking her head.  
‘And to you, Yuzuru, that might mean something. But to the rest of us mere mortals who can’t sense power without the help of complicated technology? It’s just words and hope – your specialty, if I’m not mistaken, and the way you always manage to make all of us believe in wild, ridiculous things. But on this much I’m sticking to my guns; you’re too important to too many of us to run the risk of only taking your word for it.’ She sighed, her expression sobering just a little. ‘And we both know, Yuzu, this time was different: this was a directed attack, a Grey Zone aimed only at you. Healed or not? You’re in for far more work than you had to do the last time – because now? We’re up against it. There’s a PR war on the horizon and a thousand questions about Grey Zone policy brewing in every country around the world.’  
‘I know,’ Yuzuru said quietly, looking down. ‘The Alliance started something that we’re going to have to finish. And Brian will need to know what I know.’  
‘Yes. He will. And perhaps he could do with knowing what Shoma knows, I suspect – because no one is buying that you two aren’t up to something any longer. So, please? Just this once – don’t be so stubborn and let me busy myself with fussing over you? Just for a few days, whilst I reassure myself that this miracle isn’t simply too good to be true?’ She raised her eyebrows slightly, looking at Yuzuru hopefully, and Yuzuru sighed, offering her a small, defeated smile in return.  
‘Fine. But you can’t stop me complaining about it.’ Tracy let out a laugh, nodding slowly and wrapping him in another gentle hug.  
‘That much I was already expecting, Yuzu,’ she smiled. ‘And if you didn’t put up a fight? Then I really would need to be worried, eh?’

When Tracy stepped back she shook herself slightly, dispelling some of the weight of emotion from her skin – she smiled, only a little stiltedly, and though there was still a trace of worry in her eyes, a warmth came over her instantly that made Shoma smile back at her despite himself. ‘Well ok then,’ she declared, blowing out a breath and narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, looking between Shoma and Yuzuru for a moment before seeming to come to some sort of conclusion. ‘In that case, I am going to step out, call Brian, make sure the rest of the Foundation has recovered from their little adventure of being suspended in time…and let him know that apparently we need to adjust the plan because…we have Yuzu.’ She pursed her lips, an almost amused glint coming into her eyes. ‘And when I get back: Yuzuru, we will be running every test I can come up with – me _and_ the doctor.’ Yuzuru let out the expected childish whine and she just about managed to hide her amused smile before turning to Shoma, one eyebrow arching. ‘And you, Shoma, will be off back to your room to _rest and recover_ , am I right? Because you certainly wouldn’t want us worrying about you so much we had to send you off to a matching hospital bed across the hall, I’m sure.’ Shoma glanced over at Yuzuru, who offered him a wry smile.  
‘Resistance is futile,’ he said, wrinkling his nose. ‘Tracy’s word is final.’  
‘Good boy,’ Tracy nodded, winking when he pulled a face at her and then looking between the two of them once again, her expression knowing.  
‘I’ll leave you two to figure out whatever it is you need to figure out then,’ she sighed. ‘But make it quick. And please: Shoma, Yuzu…I know this is a longshot for you two, but could you maybe try not to get into any trouble whilst I’m gone?’

As Tracy left the room, Shoma slumped slightly, feeling his eyelids droop, and Yuzuru looked over at him with a soft, fond expression, tilting his head slightly and laughing as Shoma let out a long, graceless yawn.  
‘You should probably go and sleep, Sho,’ he said gently, reaching out to touch his fingers to Shoma’s cheek and scrunching up his face. ‘You’ve had a long night – and as good as your power is? It was still asking a lot, to do what you did.’ He leant in, pressing a kiss to Shoma’s forehead before resting their heads together with a sigh. Shoma let his eyes droop closed, giving a soft, sleepy hum by way of a reply as Yuzuru’s hand fell to his neck, his thumb stroking soothingly along his skin. ‘You’re exhausted,’ Yuzuru murmured. ‘And don’t lie: I can sense you, remember.’ He kissed Shoma’s lips, lingering but sweet, and Shoma smiled slightly, shrugging.  
‘I’m…about average for me at this time of day, actually,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru laughed gently, leaning their foreheads together again with a thoughtful hum.  
‘Do you even know what time-zone you’re in right now?’ he asked idly, his fingers stroking along Shoma’s skin, making him feel even sleepier.  
‘Yuzu time?’ he replied through a yawn, and Yuzuru hummed, faintly amused and immeasurably fond. For a moment he simply sat with Shoma, his fingers still a light and achingly tender pressure against Shoma’s skin; there was a hint of healing in the touch, a curious sensation which somehow made Shoma feel the full heaviness of his exhaustion whilst also keeping him just awake enough to be hyper-aware of everything around him, conscious and present in the moment. Yuzuru’s breathing, steady and easy. His warm skin and cold fingertips. The smell of cherry blossom. Shoma felt his eyes close, and he let out a small sigh, sinking against Yuzuru gratefully, his body sagging and his head heavy. Yuzuru laughed, the sound little more than a sigh that tickled Shoma’s cheek.  
‘Shoma, are you falling asleep sitting up right now?’  
‘Mm.’ Yuzuru laughed again.  
‘Shoma – you have to wake up and go back to your room or Tracy will probably have all of Team Japan drag you to bed and barricade the door for a week.’  
‘’M too tired,’ Shoma protested, and Yuzuru smothered another laugh, bringing his hands up to Shoma’s face and kissing the tip of his nose before giving him the smallest of shakes.  
‘Sho,’ he chided, drawing back so that Shoma had to hold up his own head.  
‘Five more minutes,’ Shoma complained weakly, blinking his eyes open to regard the fuzzy outline of Yuzuru’s smiling face.  
‘I’ll still be here when you come back,’ Yuzuru told him, quiet but sure. ‘Tracy isn’t going to let me out of her sight, probably. And half the Foundation will want to come yell at me for scaring them. But…I’ll be here. And I’ll send them all away if you ask.’ He leant in, capturing Shoma’s lips in a slow kiss that Shoma sighed into, and when he pulled away again he let out a soft, petulant moan, trying to lean in and being thwarted by Yuzuru arching back mischievously. ‘Go. Sleep. Rest.’ Shoma huffed, yawning again and stretching slightly, trying to blink himself into being more awake than he felt. ‘I’ll see you later, ok?’ Yuzuru said, quirking an eyebrow hopefully, and Shoma nodded, offering him a tired smile.  
‘Sure.’ Yuzuru nodded back happily, eyes aglitter once more as he reached across and plucked something from Shoma’s hair. Shoma frowned and Yuzuru offered him an impish smile.  
‘Cherry blossom,’ he shrugged, eyes crinkling at the corners as he held the small, wet pink petal up for Shoma to see before blowing on it, sending it swirling up into the air, where it twisted into a tiny, shimmering butterfly that danced in three excitable circles above their heads before disappearing in a shimmer of light.  
‘Show off,’ Shoma muttered, and Yuzuru laughed, flicking him between the eyes.  
‘ _Go_ ,’ he said again, rolling his eyes in a mixture of exasperation and affection, and Shoma nodded, yawning once more as he pushed himself off the edge of the bed with a soft, exhausted huff of breath.

As Shoma turned to leave, he was surprised when Yuzuru stopped him by catching his hand, tugging him back towards him in a quick, fluid spin, and he looked at him curiously, tilting his head in expectation as Yuzuru simply watched him, eyes bright and intense as he knelt up to bring their faces level. ‘Sho,’ he whispered, pulling him just a little closer, and Shoma half-stumbled towards him, looking into his eyes with a faint, confused frown. ‘Thank you for finding me.’ Shoma smiled slightly, weak and confused as he shook his head, glancing down.  
‘I didn’t – I just…told them where to look,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru squeezed his hand, dipping his head to force him to look at him again.  
‘I wasn’t talking about last night.’ Shoma’s breath stuttered slightly, and Yuzuru’s lips twitched into a soft, enchanting smile. ‘No one else could do what you did, you know. No one else could’ve reached me. Because you had already found me a hundred times before – and there’s always magic in a memory.’

For a moment the two of them just looked at each other – too many words had already been said between them for any to have real meaning in that moment, and instead Shoma took the opportunity to really look at Yuzuru, to remember that he wasn’t a dream or an invention or a myth, wasn’t the person he’d seen in the newspapers or the bubbly people magnet he’d watched from across the courtyard on his first day. He was Yuzu – full of locks and laws and contradictions, full of all these versions of himself and a thousand different forms of lightning. And he was here, with him. Because he wanted to be. Because both of them had made a choice somewhere to make whatever it was their powers shared become something more. Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled and Shoma felt his lips twitch up at one corner, shyly understanding.  
‘I’ll see you later, Yuzu,’ Shoma said, tired but firm, and Yuzuru pursed his lips, his expression amused and knowing all at once.  
‘Ok.’ Without breaking Shoma’s gaze, he brought his thumb up to his lips, pressing a kiss to it and then tugging on Shoma’s hand. Shoma frowned slightly, but Yuzuru simply placed his thumb to his skin, taking it away with a flourish and shrugging idly as Shoma looked down at the shimmering silver imprint the kiss had left on his skin. Shoma laughed, quiet and overwhelmed and despairing all at once, and with a roll of his eyes he copied the action, pressing a kiss to his own thumb and pulling on Yuzuru’s hand, leaving a bright, gold thumbprint behind. When he looked back up, Yuzuru was beaming at him, and it was an effort not to smile back. Shoma pursed his lips.  
‘So we match,’ he said with a quiet, resolute little nod, shrugging at Yuzuru casually. ‘You’re an idiot, you know that, right?’ he asked through a yawn, and Yuzuru simply grinned.  
‘Shut up and go get some sleep already, you little demon – maybe you’ll be nicer to me once you’ve had some rest.’  
‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Shoma said, smile sly as he turned to leave. ‘You’re a pain, Hanyu.’  
‘This from the person who healed me, huh?’  
‘I never said I wasn’t a pain too.’

Shoma practically ran back to his room, his expression half-exhaustion and half-giddiness, a lazy, dopey smile on his face and his eyelids drooping further and further as he felt the morning sunshine on his skin. Yuzuru’s lightning still danced at his back, and he could practically hear the bells of his laughter still ringing in his ears. He was blushing and overwhelmed and almost certain that when he woke up he’d find this was all a dream – but he was done not letting himself feel these moments of warmth and peace and contentedness, was done not letting himself be happy out of the fear of the temporary. He had felt Yuzuru’s lean strength in his arms, heard his heartbeat and felt his smile; he had held on to him tightly enough to know he was real, and he wasn’t going to question that any longer, because Yuzuru had promised him honesty, and he had told him he was his.

Shoma fell asleep so deeply that when he finally woke up again he was hopelessly confused about where he was and why; he was lying at a wild angle across his bed, the cool blue of the Foundation sky skewed diagonal and upside-down and the birds seeming to fly backwards to his half-closed eyes. Disorientated and trying to come back to himself, he brought his hand up to rub the pillow-creases from his face, and in amidst the stuffy yellow of sunlight and dust motes filling the air, he caught a glimpse of something silver shimmering on his skin; as he stilled and stopped to look at it, he let out a groggy laugh, dropping his hand back down and rolling over to bury his face in his pillow again as a rush of realisation flooded back in, bringing with it a blush and an overwhelmed smile. Yuzuru was home – and he was ok.

There was something powerfully surreal about being back at the Foundation with the sun high in the sky and the sound of the birds overhead; the world had been holding its breath the night before, everything still and rain-sprinkled, and now it seemed as if something had been released, as though in healing Yuzuru Shoma had somehow managed to set some greater magic free in the air around the Foundation. The lifeless, breathless, oppressive hush of the night before had been banished in place of crisp, bright air and the rustle of leaves – the light danced in the courtyard’s pools and the sound of drums was back on the edges of Shoma’s awareness, a rightness to the world and a sense of freedom to admitting how happy it all made him, how at home he was and just how comfortable in his own skin he had felt the moment he had finally felt Yuzuru’s kiss against his lips. There was the sound of voices coming from Yuzuru’s hospital room, and Shoma slowed his pace slightly as he approached, trying to suppress the ridiculous smile from his cheeks and pushing his messy hair out of his face as he sucked in a steadying breath. Yuzuru’s lighting was bright and deliriously happy, prickling and needling at Shoma’s edges, as though he was baiting him, forcing the giddy grin into his features on purpose, and Shoma pushed back with a flare of indignant sunlight before squaring his shoulders and peering cautiously around the door into the room.

In the brilliant sunbeams that flooded through the window, Yuzuru looked incandescent, radiant and alive, and when he looked up to meet Shoma’s eyes it was like a full-body blow, a dull hit of warmth and electricity that brought a faint, overwhelmed smile to his lips; Yuzuru’s gaze was glittering, full of delight and mischief, and something else Shoma wasn’t quite sure of, and for a moment Shoma felt the seconds dragging between them, a heartbeat or two of slow motion that belonged to just the two of them before the world rushed back in. Shoma blinked and Yuzuru shot him a secretive smile, one eyebrow quirking before the moment broke and he turned to look behind him, to where Nobu was sitting, arms wrapped around him in a ridiculous hug that had clearly been going on for some time.  
‘Yuzu, your happy is showing,’ Nobu teased, flicking Yuzuru’s temple, and Yuzuru pulled a face, jabbing an elbow in his side and falling back against him, letting out a whinging laugh.  
‘Why is that so bad? You tell me off when I’m not happy, you tell me off when I am: let me live already.’  
‘When you live too wildly you get in trouble,’ Nobu declared. ‘We’re trying to keep you in one piece, huh?’  
‘By crushing me?’  
‘By crushing you with unending affection!’

Some stubborn, selfish part of Shoma was somewhat disappointed as he realised Nobu, Keiji and Kazuki had all beaten him to Yuzuru’s room. Strangely, the most wounding part was the fact that, whist Keiji stood leaning idly against the window ledge, and Nobu shamelessly rested his chin on Yuzuru’s shoulder and clamped his arms around his middle, Kazuki was sitting cross-legged on the bed in Shoma’s spot, directly opposite Yuzuru, close enough that their knees knocked together when Yuzuru wriggled around against Nobu’s grip.  
‘Hi, Shoma!’ Kazuki beamed, oblivious and bright, and Shoma started slightly, startled out of his trance and feeling suddenly shy as Keiji, Nobu, Kazuki and Yuzuru all looked over at him expectantly. Yuzuru lifted a curious eyebrow, head tilting like a question, but Keiji’s smirk was knowing, and he rolled his eyes in faint exasperation.  
‘Uh-oh, I know that look,’ he muttered. ‘Shoma, try not to take Kazuki’s head of this time, huh?’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Leave me alone – I had a bad day, ok?’ he sulked, coming further into the room and shoving his hands in his pockets, scowling harder. Keiji laughed at him.  
‘What do you mean?’ Kazuki frowned, looking between Keiji and Shoma in confusion, and Nobu snorted.  
‘We’ll tell you when you’re older.’  
‘I’m basically the same age as Shoma,’ Kazuki pointed out.  
‘Except Shoma has the soul of a three hundred-year-old misanthrope who has seen too much,’ Keiji remarked slyly. ‘And a jealous streak a mile wide.’ Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.  
‘I just woke up and I’ve only had, like, two Red Bulls and some chocolate for sustenance, you really don’t want to test me right now.’  
‘Oo, Keiji, you should watch it – you could lose a finger when he gets like this,’ Nobu laughed, honking and cheery, and Shoma groaned.  
‘Why do I spend my time with you people?’ he asked. Yuzuru let out a hurt yelp, holding out a hand to him and waggling his fingers with an unashamed neediness that made Shoma smile slightly.  
‘Shoma! I didn’t do anything wrong; spend time with me instead, huh?’ he said, making a grabbing motion when Shoma didn’t move immediately, and Shoma let out a soft, huffy laugh, rolling his eyes at him.  
‘Like you’re any better,’ he said, taking Yuzuru’s hand anyway and letting himself be tugged closer.  
‘Actually, I’m the best. And I have food I’ll let you share,’ Yuzuru nodded confidently.  
‘And just like that, Shoma’s cold, cold heart was melted,’ Keiji said archly, waggling his eyebrows. Shoma pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at him before glancing back at Yuzuru.  
‘Japanese food?’ Yuzuru’s eyes glinted, his smile wicked and amused.  
‘Like I would be so disrespectful as to bribe you with anything other than your favourites – Sho, give me some credit.’ Shoma fought a smile, shaking his head slightly and pulling a face.  
‘You’re so dumb.’  
‘I’m a delight,’ Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘No, I’m actually with Shoma on this one – definitely dumb,’ Keiji joked lightly, and Yuzuru pouted, stretching out a leg to try and kick him and wrinkling his nose in distaste as Keiji managed to dance out of his way. ‘80% leg and you still can’t get me? You’re losing your touch.’ Yuzuru glared.  
‘I’m sparing you because you brought me proper food,’ he huffed.  
‘Yeah, and if Tracy asks? Nobu brought it.’  
‘Hey! If Tracy asks, Kazuki brought it!’ Nobu said, eyes wide in a show of horror.  
‘That’ll work – she can’t stay mad at Kazuki, it’s like he has some sort of hypnosis over her,’ Yuzuru nodded solemnly.  
‘It’s my winning smile,’ Kazuki grinned brightly, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him affectionately.  
‘You’re kind of adorable,’ he agreed, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. ‘Powerful too, though – tricky combination, the world should watch out.’ Kazuki beamed at the compliment, happily giving a shy little bow, and Shoma bit his lip, pretending it didn’t bother him to see Yuzuru flash his sunniest smile Kazuki’s way.  
‘I think you probably still command a bit more attention than me though…your face is literally on billboards,’ Kazuki said, eyes wide and starry, and Yuzuru shuddered.  
‘I know: it’s awful.’ He glared at the laughing Keiji and Nobu and looked back to Kazuki with a faintly embarrassed smile. ‘Stick to being beloved by Tracy – and if the Japanese tourist board start to show any interest in you? Then run.’ Kazuki laughed, nodding slowly.  
‘I will remember this advice,’ he said, his tone playful but something ridiculously earnest in his eyes that forced Shoma into a reluctant smile.  
‘Is that in your unofficial biography?’ he asked Yuzuru dryly, and Yuzuru stuck his tongue out at him, giving him a gentle shove.  
‘I’m offended you haven’t read it, Shoma; don’t you care about me?’  
‘Oh, I know things the guy who wrote that would’ve killed for,’ Shoma smirked, and Yuzuru’s eyes twinkled gleefully.  
‘You’d never tell on me – you adore me,’ he announced, airy and teasing, and Shoma shot him a glare.  
‘Adore is a strong word. I prefer…tolerate.’ Keiji snorted.  
‘Oh, I think adore was closer,’ he muttered, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘Shame he doesn’t adore me back.’ Yuzuru let out a yelp of protest, and Shoma shrugged, trying to seem flippant. ‘What? Clearly Kazuki beats me out.’  
‘Because he’s less likely to commit murder, Shoma,’ Nobu laughed. ‘That and he got Yuzu’s phone back for him – Tracy doesn’t know that yet though, so shh.’ Kazuki let out a small squeak, covering his face with his hands.  
‘I’m going to be so dead, aren’t I?’ he asked, peeking out from between his fingers before glancing at Yuzuru. ‘I figured you’d want it though…and it was just…sitting there…’ Yuzuru offered him a dazzling smile, his eyes bright, and Shoma looked down at his hands so he didn’t have to see it.  
‘You’ll be fine – Tracy will blame Javi,’ Yuzuru said confidently. ‘And if she works it out? Then I’ll defend you with my life.’ Shoma raised an eyebrow.  
‘Seriously?’ he said under his breath, and Yuzuru cast him a curious look.  
‘The frightening thing is: when he says that? He probably means it. He’s terrifying when he’s defending someone,’ Keiji smirked, shaking his head with fond despair. ‘How are you _this_ chipper anyway? We all thought you were a goner last night, honestly.’  
‘Never underestimate me,’ Yuzuru shrugged simply, glancing up at Shoma. ‘Never underestimate Shoma, either,’ he added then, and Shoma smiled self-consciously, pulling a face at him.  
‘So we really do have you to blame for him terrorising us all again, huh?’ Nobu asked Shoma then, leaning around to look at him with teasingly wide eyes. ‘I mean…you’re good, but…I didn’t think you would have been up to it; Kana and Satton said you were a mess when they last saw you.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.  
‘And that would be why Kana and Satton went to time-jail,’ he muttered, and Nobu laughed loudly enough that Yuzuru winced, shoving his face away from him.  
‘Hey, I don’t need “deafened” to be added to my medical chart, thank you – Tracy and Brian already have enough notes on there to keep me in here all week,’ he said huffily, rolling his eyes. ‘Ghislain is the only one who believes I’m fine, but he’s outvoted so I’m basically grounded.’ Nobu laughed, ruffling his hair.  
‘Aw, poor Superstar – no saving the world for you today.’ Yuzuru glared at him warningly.  
‘Please tell me they don’t actually think they can keep you stuck up here and have it not lead to trouble,’ Keiji groaned.  
‘Yeah, it’s like caging a really dramatic tiger,’ Nobu agreed, and Yuzuru elbowed him in the side. ‘Ow!’ Nobu looked around at the others, gesturing pointedly at Yuzuru’s elbow. ‘You see what I mean? He’s a menace to society when he’s bored.’ Shoma smirked.  
‘He’s always a menace to society,’ he said darkly, laughing and jumping back when Yuzuru tried to hit his arm playfully. Shoma smiled and Yuzuru pouted at him.  
‘Kazuki, you’re my only friend,’ he lamented, quickly dissolving into giggles when Nobu and Keiji reached out to smack at him, throwing his head back and resting his weight childishly against Nobu, deliberately pushing at him.

A small frown had creased Shoma’s face that he tried to hide, but when Yuzuru looked up at him he caught it immediately, and his expression softened, his lightning needling at Shoma’s edges, ticklish, like he was trying to coax a smile out of him. He held out his hand once again, fingers dancing invitingly and a sparkle in his eyes. ‘Shoma, don’t sulk with me.’ It was impossible to resist the sing-song sweetness of his voice, the genuine kindness in his eyes, and Shoma felt his lips twist into a smile. He sighed, turning his eyes skywards and holding out his hand with resignation for Yuzuru to grab hold of, letting himself get tugged down onto the bed with a dull thump.  
‘You’re a nightmare.’  
‘And I think highly of you too, Shoma,’ Yuzuru nodded pleasantly. Shoma laughed, high and happy, wrinkling his nose, and his heart stuttered slightly as Yuzuru ran his thumb subtly across the still-shimmering remnants of the mark on the back of his hand. Shoma found the corresponding mark on Yuzuru’s skin, their eyes meeting for a moment as they shared a conspiratorial smile.  
‘This is disgustingly cute,’ Nobu put in sagely as he looked between them, and Shoma and Yuzuru both turned to glare at him, making him laugh and hold up his hands in playful surrender. ‘Wow, you two are scary, huh.’ Yuzuru reached up to flick his temple.  
‘And don’t forget it, or I’ll set Shoma on you,’ he told him with a nod. Shoma suppressed a smirk.  
‘Most powerful person in the world and he still thinks you’re the scarier one – that should tell you something about your true, dangerous nature, you know,’ Keiji said slyly, and Shoma shrugged.  
‘I know all his secrets – I could destroy him in…maybe ten minutes? Probably more like five.’ He shot Yuzuru a wicked smile, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him.  
‘Hmm, like you think I would have any problem using your own brother against you to get leverage: mutually assured destruction.’ Shoma snorted, nodding slowly.  
‘Fair,’ he sighed. ‘I knew there was a reason you put up with him.’  
‘Am I still not allowed to say “cute”?’ Nobu stage-whispered to Keiji, and Yuzuru flashed him a dangerously saccharine smile before forcefully shoving him off the bed. Shoma, Keiji and Kazuki laughed as Nobu wailed dramatically, and Yuzuru peered over the edge of the bed with faux innocence. ‘You are awful,’ Nobu complained, getting up and flopping back behind Yuzuru. ‘Shoma, you couldn’t have healed him a little bit less, huh?’ Shoma smirked.  
‘Please, like that would’ve stopped him.’

Apparently bored of everyone’s teasing, Yuzuru turned his attention back to Kazuki, leaning over to tap his knee.  
‘You never told me if you got the books I asked for,’ he said, and Kazuki let out a sudden, almost excitable gasp, turning around and reaching over the end of the bed to pull up his backpack.  
‘I think I got everything,’ he nodded, rummaging around and producing a scrap of paper which he studied for a beat. ‘I checked the book twice to make sure I got the right title…and I didn’t know which notebooks you wanted, so I just got all the ones I found.’ He delved back into the backpack and produced a book and a stack of notebooks, smiling brightly when Yuzuru’s eyes lit up as he took them from him.  
‘Kazuki!’ he exclaimed, looking through the stack with delight before offering Kazuki another joyful grin, his eyes disappearing into two crescents. ‘You’re the best. Were they still where I thought they were?’ Kazuki blushed, clearly giddy at the effusive praise, and he nodded enthusiastically.  
‘Exactly like you told me. I kind of remembered from when we were at the library together, but…I was just happy to help,’ he shrugged. Shoma glanced curiously over to the stack of books in Yuzuru’s hands, eyebrows knitting together as he realised their significance.  
‘You actually let him take your theory books?’ he asked, more bluntly than he’d intended to, and Yuzuru cast him a strange look, lips pursing as he tilted his head.  
‘Sure…I mean…he was with me when I had them last, so…’  
‘I didn’t look, I swear!’ Kazuki burst out, looking at Shoma plaintively, and Shoma winced, giving a quick shake of his head and waving his hand vaguely.  
‘No – I didn’t-’ He cut himself off with a huff, flicking his fringe out of his eyes as he offered Kazuki a small, apologetic smile. ‘I wasn’t accusing you of anything…I was just…’ Shoma bit his lip, looking down and playing with the ends of his sleeves. ‘I was just surprised, that’s all.’ He looked at Yuzuru out of the corner of his eye, blushing a little when he caught the soft, tender expression in his face. ‘You barely let me be alone with them half the time, even when you were going on about some new idea.’ Yuzuru narrowed his eyes, cuffing his arm reproachfully.  
‘Shoma, don’t lie – I’m always leaving them behind in your room, huh? You even fell asleep reading one once…which was really not reassuring,’ he said, rolling his eyes. Shoma suppressed a small smile, tipping his head slightly in acknowledgment.  
‘Ok, fine…but…still…’ He shrugged, and Yuzuru let out a small, sceptical hum before glancing back at Kazuki with a smile.  
‘Did you bring my speech notes too? There’s some stuff I want to go over again – Brian’s already talking about press and I want to be prepared.’ Kazuki nodded happily, reaching back into his bag and pulling out the tattered A4 pad Yuzuru wrote all his speeches out on, handing it over and casting Shoma a kind smile.  
‘I like your drawings by the way.’ Shoma blinked, raising his eyebrows in a bewildered expression that made Kazuki laugh slightly. ‘I mean on the notes – they’re everywhere, right? I think they’re cool.’ Yuzuru cast Shoma an odd look, flicking his temple.  
‘He means all your doodles in the margins, Daydreamer,’ he laughed fondly. ‘Even more evidence that my writing bores you, huh?’  
‘Oh.’ Shoma glanced back at Kazuki with a slightly chagrined smile. ‘Thanks,’ he mumbled, shrugging awkwardly. ‘It helps me concentrate – when he starts rambling and I need to pick out the good bits for him.’ Kazuki laughed.  
‘I haven’t mastered that yet – it’s probably for the best you’re back already.’ Shoma tried not to smile but he couldn’t help it, and Keiji shot him a knowing glance. Yuzuru didn’t look up from the notes he was studying, but he knocked their elbows together playfully, making Shoma blush.  
‘Did I bring the right ones? The balance and actions stuff, right?’ Kazuki asked Yuzuru tentatively, looking painfully eager to please, and Yuzuru nodded distractedly, tapping his finger against his chin as he continued reading. Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘Wait, you’re going back to the balance and actions speech? The one you threw out after the Malaysia thing?’ Yuzuru looked up at him, nodding.  
‘Of course. I threw it out because it sounded like I was starting a fight…now the Alliance have started the fight for me already, I thought it might come in useful,’ he shrugged, ridiculously casual, and Shoma felt a scowl come over his features before he could stop it.  
‘Not the point, Yuzu,’ he huffed. ‘You threw that out after I spent a whole bus ride helping you with it – now you’re letting Kazuki rehash it for you?’  
‘Shoma,’ Keiji chided, and Shoma winced, glancing at Kazuki apologetically.  
‘I didn’t mean it that way – I just meant…I didn’t think anyone should be redoing it, I guess,’ he sighed. ‘I’m tired and my words aren’t-’ He shook his head, wrinkling his nose and running his fingers through his fringe. ‘I’d be just as pissed if he was re-writing it by himself, don’t take it personally,’ he mumbled. Yuzuru’s expression was a sublime mix of amusement and reproach, and Shoma pulled a face at him. ‘Shut up,’ he pouted as Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled knowingly.  
‘I didn’t say a word.’ He tilted his head at Shoma, his smile wicked and fond. ‘I had no idea you were so passionate about my speeches, though – this is interesting information…’ Shoma pursed his lips and tried very hard not to launch himself at him, caught between wanting to cuff him round the head and kiss the side of his face. Keiji looked between the two of them like he knew, his eyes all piercing sharpness as he narrowed them slightly.  
‘Ok, you know what? We should go,’ he declared into the pause, and Nobu stifled a laugh. ‘Come on, Kazuki; pack up. We don’t want to be late for afternoon lectures, right?’ Keiji clapped a hand on Kazuki’s shoulder, shooting Shoma a pointed look as Yuzuru and Nobu bit back their grins.  
‘But…it’s still only half-twelve…lectures aren’t ‘til two…’ Kazuki frowned, baffled but still obligingly packing up his backpack. Keiji sighed tiredly.  
‘We’ll go early then, get a good seat – come on, out, now.’  
‘What’s the lecture on if it’s going to be that popular?’ Kazuki asked, hopping down from the bed and letting Keiji steer him towards the door.  
‘With any luck? Taking Hints 101,’ he said dryly, turning back to cast a still-silently-laughing Nobu and Yuzuru a glare. ‘I’ll stop by later, Yuzu…assuming Shoma lets me.’ Shoma pursed his lips and looked down awkwardly as Keiji smiled at him knowingly.  
‘I’m so lost,’ Kazuki sighed, and Nobu grinned at him.  
‘Don’t worry, my friend: Uncle Nobu is coming to talk to you all about reading between the lines,’ Nobu offered, clapping his hands together and knocking into Yuzuru by way of a goodbye. ‘I’m going to educate sweet Kazuki for you, Yuzu – that should kill the time before afternoon lectures, huh?’ Yuzuru shot him a half-hearted glare.  
‘Let him be,’ he chided, but Nobu ignored him, waving to him and Shoma faux-sweetly.  
‘Goodbye, children – don’t do anything I wouldn’t do whilst we’re gone, ok?’

As the others waved their goodbyes and disappeared down the corridor, Shoma decided to become intensely interested in the ends of his sleeves, studiously looking down and ignoring the feeling of Yuzuru’s dark eyes studying him thoughtfully.  
‘Shoma.’ He said his name in the wheedling, musical way that shouldn’t have made Shoma smile but always did, and Shoma looked at him out of the corner of his eye, laughing softly as he bumped their shoulders together, almost overbalancing him. ‘Is there a reason you’re on some kind of mission to make Kazuki cry, or…’ Shoma attempted to scowl at him, and Yuzuru arched an eyebrow, tugging on Shoma’s sleeve until his weight was leaning against him. Shoma elbowed him weakly.  
‘Like that would even work anyway; Kazuki could get stung by a wasp and he’d probably just thank it. He is…a terrifyingly good person,’ he protested. Yuzuru pursed his lips, eyes shining with fond amusement, and Shoma wrinkled his nose. ‘I was just…surprised, I guess…and I kinda…’ He sighed, gesturing vaguely with his hand and looking down. ‘It took me back and stuff came out wrong, that’s all.’ When Shoma hesitantly risked a glance up into Yuzuru’s face, he was smiling, eyes dancing in the vivid sunlight that poured in through the window opposite; he leant in just a little, tapping Shoma on the nose impishly, his pink lips quirking into an affectionate curve.  
‘You’re cute when you’re jealous,’ he said, pushing some of Shoma’s hair out of his eyes and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Shoma attempted to shoot him a dry, unimpressed look, but Yuzuru simply beamed at him, radiant and fond, tracing a finger along his jawline that drew an involuntary sigh out of him. Shoma’s eyes fluttered closed at the tickle of the touch, and Yuzuru hummed, light and happy. ‘Kazuki is fun, but he’s not Shoma: to me, that’s a very important detail,’ he murmured, pressing a sweet, marshmallow kiss to Shoma’s lips. Shoma’s eyes fluttered open as he pulled back, and he blinked, trying to refocus on Yuzuru’s soft, open expression, feeling his breath hitch just a little. ‘He doesn’t see the notes, only the sections I tell him – and he doesn’t get to cross out whole paragraphs and draw butterflies over the parts he doesn’t like. Also, passing out on my notebooks at midnight and calling me names? Really not a Kazuki thing.’ Shoma let out a shy laugh, and Yuzuru smiled a secret, honeyed smile, knuckles grazing Shoma’s cheek. ‘Working side by side is still our thing, Shoma – Kazuki can’t take that away from you, and I’m pretty sure he’s not even trying.’ Shoma twisted his lips to one side as he tried not to smile, and Yuzuru’s face crinkled up in knowing delight as he held out his hand on his knee expectantly. Shoma laughed and quickly obliged, returning the offered low-five before bumping their fists together and then hooking their little fingers, letting out a moan of amused complaint when Yuzuru didn’t let his hand go, instead tugging him closer, letting his own weight fall backwards until Shoma had no choice but to collapse down on top of him with a low huff of breath.  
‘I’m not jealous,’ Shoma said somewhat sulkily, rolling himself over so they were pressed side by side. He tipped his head to look up into Yuzuru’s face, sticking his tongue out at his mischievous smile. ‘Ego,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru laughed, finding his hand again and nudging at it until their fingers tangled.  
‘I believe you, Shoma,’ he declared, kissing Shoma’s temple. ‘Thousands wouldn’t, though.’

Shoma attempted a glare, but his lips curved up at one corner – Yuzuru was impossible to deny, too happy and too electric. Shoma shivered against him slightly, and Yuzuru’s eyes lit up as he pulled Shoma’s hand onto his stomach, beginning to trace absent patterns along his palm and up to his wrist as he settled back against the pillow with a sigh. ‘You know…if you were going to be jealous of anyone, really it should be Javi,’ he remarked idly into the quiet, and Shoma frowned, lifting his head slightly to look over at him.  
‘Huh?’ Yuzuru’s lips twisted, his eyes shining with a curious mixture of amusement and reluctance and a slight blush colouring his cheeks as he shrugged somewhat awkwardly.  
‘I mean…Javi is the only other person here I’ve ever kissed…’ He flicked Shoma an uncharacteristically shy glance. ‘Javi was my first kiss, actually.’  
‘Are you serious?’ Shoma asked, and Yuzuru caught his bottom lip between his teeth, nodding guiltily. There was still a glitter of impishness in his eyes, something ridiculous and strangely sweet, and Shoma didn’t want to acknowledge the part of him that simply ached for him all the more for the total absurdity of it. He stared up at him for a beat, eyes roaming his face as he took in the information before he slowly resettled himself back against the pillow with a soft humph.  
‘That is…’ He licked his dry lips, tasting a lingering hint of marshmallow lip balm and letting out a faint breath of a laugh. ‘That is so… _you_ , you know that?’ He shot Yuzuru a sidelong glance. ‘Your first kiss is with the person basically everyone at the Foundation fancies…because you can’t settle for just being normal and having a terrible first kiss, you have to go the extra mile and find the prettiest, most popular person available.’ He jabbed an elbow in Yuzuru’s side, and Yuzuru laughed, indignant but gentle as he elbowed Shoma back with a faint pout.  
‘Hey, it wasn’t like it was my fault,’ he protested. Shoma arched an eyebrow and Yuzuru shrugged lazily. ‘It was one of the Americans’ birthdays…I don’t know, maybe Ashley? There weren’t so many of us then, birthdays became a bigger deal somehow and most of the Foundation would pitch in.’  
‘So what happened?’  
‘Truth or Dare, I think it was. I wasn’t there, but how it was told to me was that Javi picked truth, because he’s an idiot, and everyone wanted to know if he fancied me. And he actually said yes… _because he’s an idiot_.’ Yuzuru let out a huffy laugh, rolling his eyes. ‘Everyone was just as bad for being hopeless gossips then as they are now – the only difference was there were fewer of us, so everything seemed more intense. They were always accusing Javi and me of flirting…but that’s just Javi, you know? Mostly, anyway. Him saying he liked me was a pretty dumb move, honestly.’ He shot Shoma a sly smile. ‘You can guess what happened when he picked a dare on his next go, right?’ Shoma smirked slightly, nodding slowly.  
‘And you had no clue?’ Yuzuru shook his head.  
‘I was minding my own business studying for an exam. Then everyone showed up at the library to make me come eat with them and Javi kissed me when we were eating ice cream. Ashley didn’t stop yelling for…I think a week? Her and Adam had some sort of bet. Adam was actually pretty sweet, though.’ He pulled a face. ‘I don’t really know why it mattered to them, it’s not like it was that big a deal.’  
‘But I thought Javi had a girlfriend?’  
‘He does now, not then though.’ Yuzuru laughed at Shoma’s confused expression, flicking him between the eyes. ‘Don’t look so shocked: you like me, why is it so hard to believe someone else could too, huh?’  
‘Because I clearly have no taste,’ Shoma protested, flicking him back and fighting off a smile when Yuzuru simply laughed. ‘I thought Javi had actual standards.’  
‘Javi is a giant flirt – his standards are “Does this person make me happy? I think I’ll kiss them and see where it goes”…he loves the idea of going out with someone more than the reality sometimes. But he’s honest about it. And I was, like, eighteen and spent most of my time with him anyway. I don’t think either of us was being picky.’ He sighed, thoughtful and long, and Shoma looked up at him enquiringly. ‘Javi was bored and I was maybe just…lonely. We got on each other’s nerves all the time so…’ Yuzuru shrugged, tilting his head. ‘Although, I don’t think we ever broke up, exactly…’ Shoma widened his eyes slightly.  
‘You’re technically still dating Javier Fernandez?’ he asked dryly, his throat going tight, and Yuzuru laughed, turning onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow so he could meet Shoma’s eyes properly.  
‘Actually…the way I see it? I think I never officially started dating him.’ He reached out, tracing the edge of Shoma’s face absently. ‘Things are rarely set down in stone by Javi. He is a fluid person – he’s there, and then he’s gone. He takes people to heart, but he doesn’t worry so much about what he means to them in return.’ Shoma nodded vaguely, looking down.  
‘I guess I get that. But…I could never do it, though,’ he murmured, and Yuzuru smiled, quiet but full.  
‘I mostly just pretend because I have to but…it’s not really me.’ Shoma looked back up at him and he lifted his shoulder in a small shrug, his eyes dark and intense. ‘And you, Sho? You take people to heart and keep them there forever. And it hurts you when people don’t offer you that same permeance in kind. You worry what people think of you, what you mean to them – you worry so much you second guess whether or not to let them in in the first place.’ Shoma swallowed, his muscles tense and his head roaring, and Yuzuru offered him a peaceful smile, something total about it as he leant in to kiss Shoma’s forehead. ‘But if it helps? You're irreplaceable to me.’ He rested their foreheads together, and Shoma closed his eyes, smiling against the brush of bergamot and jasmine he caught as Yuzuru’s sleeve dragged gently along his skin. ‘I won’t tell you to care less about other people’s opinions, though; your heart is what makes you who you are, your sensitivity…the way you see the world. I hate that it hurts you, but I wouldn’t want you to be another way – because you are my brilliant, perceptive Shoma. With your gentle strength and your honesty. There are no other suns in my sky: I only want you.’

Shoma looked up into Yuzuru’s face slowly, cautiously, sucking on his bottom lip and playing with the zip of his jacket, trying desperately to do anything to dispel the intensity from his skin; the bright light of the room was suddenly oppressive to him, and all he wanted to do was kiss Yuzuru, to not have to try to put his feelings into words. Once the words were said, it was something solid, something known – words could grow edges as sharp as knives once they were spoken out loud, could always come back one day to wound you. Shoma swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath as Yuzuru pressed a kiss to his cheek.  
‘You and Javi are still so close,’ he mumbled absently, and Yuzuru let out a small, kind hum, not bothering to deny the point just for the sake of trying to appease Shoma’s fears or cheating a kiss out of him.  
‘Javi and me have shared too much to throw away our friendship over dumb games. We know things about each other that are more important than kisses and arguments over who is being too annoying or too intense this week. Javi and me, we are both fighters at heart – we know whose team we are on no matter what else passes between us, and that is enough to set the past aside.’ Shoma gave a vague bob of his head, just to show he was listening, and Yuzuru touched a finger to his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. ‘But Shoma, you know the truth, right? You see too clearly to miss this, huh?’ Shoma blinked, frowning slightly, and Yuzuru offered him an ache of a smile. ‘Shoma.’ He said it like a sigh, and Shoma felt a flicker of guilt – like his doubt had failed Yuzuru somehow. But then Yuzuru smiled as though he understood and wanted to dispel the thought from Shoma’s head before it could take hold. He flopped back down onto the pillow and edged closer, his hand moving to Shoma’s hip and his thumb hooking beneath where the fabric of his shirt was riding up so he could drag his fingers gently along the flash of exposed skin. ‘People have a tendency to see either too many flaws in me or not enough – even people who should know me better. You have always only seen…me; good, bad…messy, broken…actually not so bad after all. You call me out and you don’t put me on a pedestal – you push and you pick and you don’t accept anything but the best version of me, always editing just as keenly as you do when I let you go through my notes on my speeches, cutting to the heart and understanding the words not being said. Javi would never be brave enough to look that close at me…and I’m not sure I would want him to. Not when I’ve never looked so close at him.’ Yuzuru’s smile was bittersweet and soft, his eyes full of feeling as he studied the lines of Shoma’s face. His fingers pressed just a little harder at Shoma’s hip, and Shoma felt his breath catch at the back of his throat, sharp and harsh. ‘I never cared to know the cracks in his lips or the fractures in his stories. To learn the difference between his sighs – which were sad and which were tired, which were hopeful and which were made as a surrender. When you sigh in surrender? Your lips curve up at the far left corner. I learnt that one first because it’s my favourite – it means you’re about to let me kiss you…it means you’re going to at least pretend you think I’m right about something.’ Shoma let out a small breath of laughter, glancing down with a slight blush, and Yuzuru reached up to run his fingers along the warm, raw skin. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who could make me forget my speeches half way through a final practice before – anyone whose face I wanted to see in every crowd. Other people I didn’t dare look for, in case I found out they didn’t understand. But you always understand. You smile and it makes me feel like I’m running. It’s a freedom I remember from before – when I was small and people didn’t expect me to be a certain way and have my life consumed with solving all their problems.’ Shoma felt his lips twist slightly, a ghost of a smile forming for just a heartbeat as he glanced down, shy and happy and hopeful all at once.  
‘Giddiness,’ he murmured, looking up at Yuzuru through his fringe. Yuzuru frowned slightly – unjudging and gentle, curiosity sparkling in his eyes – and Shoma let out a small, strangled sound, a laugh that was almost an embarrassed sigh. ‘Just something my mum said.’ He shook his head, glancing down again with a lopsided smile. ‘Giddiness is everything spilling out of you – too loud and too honest and too crazy. Too much feeling to give you time to second-guess or check your plans. You just have to trust it. Even if it’s blind and dumb and doesn’t come with instructions.’ Yuzuru hummed, low and contemplative, his fingers following a path along Shoma’s arm and down to his waist before drifting back up again – deliberately light, but perfectly judged so as not to make Shoma feel tickled and squirm away. Shoma had never known a touch to speak to so much, and he briefly closed his eyes against it, revelling in the faint shocks of lightning he could feel making their way through his body as he focused in. ‘Mm, that’s nice,’ he murmured, blinking blearily up into Yuzuru’s face. Yuzuru’s smile was heavy and total, and he pulled himself a little closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of Shoma’s lips.  
‘Giddiness,’ he murmured against his skin, drawing back to look into his unfocused eyes with a delicious twist of his lips. ‘Giddiness sounds about right.’ He kissed the side of Shoma’s face, his jaw and then the opposite corner of his lips before drawing away with a hum. ‘Do I make you feel giddy, Shoma? When it’s just you and me?’ Shoma let out a huff of breath, laughter in his eyes as his blush intensified.  
‘Worse: you make me feel it even when it’s you and me and half the world watching.’ Yuzuru’s smile was so ridiculously pleased Shoma felt his lungs go tight, his skin buzzing with electricity and his heartbeat loud in his ears. ‘If you don’t kiss me in the next, like, ten seconds? There is a very real possibility I’m going to pass out,’ he managed, and Yuzuru laughed, the peal-of-bells laugh that lit him up like an April morning and made Shoma’s heart attempt to relocate itself to his throat. ‘I’m not kidding,’ Shoma breathed, voice tight and eyes earnest, and Yuzuru beamed at him, leaning in to touch their foreheads together and deliberately holding himself so Shoma couldn’t quite meet his lips. ‘ _Yuzu_ ,’ Shoma whined, and he laughed again, softer this time, his breath tickling Shoma’s skin. ‘I hate you so much.’  
‘No you don’t,’ Yuzuru replied confidently, his fingers sneaking beneath the hem of Shoma’s shirt once more to press against his waist, using Shoma’s body as an anchor to pull himself closer, and finally shifting to capture Shoma’s lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

If Yuzuru cared that anyone could have walked in and caught them there, he did a good job of hiding it, his grip on Shoma so insistent and so firm that Shoma had to work to keep chasing him, his body all strain and longing and his skin dusted in thunderstorms. Yuzuru’s fingers clutched at his hip, moved up to his chin, tangled in his hair, and Shoma pushed back against him, his own hands planted firmly against Yuzuru’s chest, grabbing at his shirt more determinedly as he caught the scent of bergamot and jasmine; everything was Yuzuru’s body, his energy, his heartbeat, and Shoma let himself focus on nothing else than that swell of gravity, allowing himself to sink into the weight of it, like it was history and science and music, like it was something which could be learnt and kept inside his mind forever. He was never going to try to forget this.

When they drew back they drew back slowly – reluctant but needing to steady their breathing, everything heavy and intense even as they opened their eyes to look back up at each other with a strange sort of shyness for two people who had no hint of reservation left between them. ‘Still jealous?’ Yuzuru asked lightly, and Shoma laughed despite himself, shoving Yuzuru backwards. ‘If it helps? It could never have worked between Javi and me: he always tasted of coffee or toothpaste and nothing in between.’ Yuzuru’s tone was light and matter-of-fact, his expression all playful distaste, and somehow the simplicity made Shoma feel easier, made it all matter so much less. Or perhaps that had more to do with the electricity still working its way through his system.  
‘What do I taste of?’ he asked, rolling over so he was lying partially on top of Yuzuru, gazing down into his peacefully delighted face. Yuzuru stretched up, kissing Shoma again – short but lingering – before flopping back with a mischievous smile.  
‘When the seasons change,’ he said softly. ‘Like rain and the ocean…and copper, always copper and cracks.’ He brought two fingers up to his lips, running them along the sheen of the remnants of his lip balm and then stretching up to run the balm along the sharp, jagged dryness of Shoma’s lips. As Yuzuru withdrew his hand, Shoma pursed his lips and tasted marshmallows; he couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. ‘I didn’t tell you to make you overthink it, Shoma. I only told you because…at this point, anything I don’t tell you seems to take on all this meaning. I told you because it…really doesn’t mean all that much to me, and I didn’t want to give it all this weight by letting it stay unspoken.’ Shoma nodded slowly.  
‘Ok,’ he murmured, shifting to rest his head on Yuzuru’s shoulder. ‘So then…you should know that my first kiss was this dumb guy at school.’ He sighed, shrugging as best he could against Yuzuru’s side. ‘He thought we were just messing around, I thought it was something that was so deep and important, and it ended in him calling me names and never speaking to me again.’ He looked up at Yuzuru with a wry, wonky smile. ‘We’re not still friends, in case you were wondering.’ Yuzuru smiled back, eyes gently sympathetic and smile amused, and instantly Shoma realised what he had meant about not letting the story carry so much weight. The ugly, uncomfortable thing the story had always been in the back of his mind was gone now it had been reduced to some flippant sentence – because in return he had seen Yuzuru’s impish smile, the warmth and affection in his eyes, and that meant infinitely more. He wet his lips and propped himself up again, regarding Yuzuru thoughtfully. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ he whispered, and Yuzuru quirked an eyebrow enquiringly. Shoma’s smile was faintly playful, his eyes darkening and sparkling as he shrugged, his gaze wandering back to Yuzuru’s lips. ‘It wasn’t even a proper kiss.’  
‘Oh? And what’s a proper ki-’ Before Yuzuru could finish the words, Shoma dipped his head and captured his lips, pulling at Yuzuru enough to make him sigh into the kiss as he drew himself up to meet Shoma. Yuzuru’s body was all sinew and elegance against the stubborn power of Shoma’s own, but for all the force the two of them possessed there was something gentle in both their movements, a grace to the way they moved together; it went all the way down to their fingertips, the way they found each other’s skin, the delicate curves of smiles and the press of fingerprints to pulse-points, the arch and sway of brief chases and quick surrenders. When Yuzuru finally pulled back with a faint laugh, Shoma blinked open his eyes and felt his breath catch as Yuzuru instantly moved back in, kissing the square of his jaw, the curve of his neck, the palm of his hand and then back to his lips again.  
‘Mm,’ Shoma let out, a ridiculous smile touching his lips as his whole body hummed beneath Yuzuru’s touch, and he had to roll back against the pillow just to steady himself.  
‘Proper kiss?’ Yuzuru asked lightly, and Shoma moaned softly, closing his eyes and elbowing him in the ribs.  
‘You’re so dumb.’ He pressed his lips together, tasting marshmallows and spring and electricity and letting out an embarrassed laugh. ‘But…yeah. Proper kiss.’

For a moment the two of them lay there, side by side and content to be quiet together; Shoma knew it couldn’t last, this bubble of time away from the world, but for once in his life he was happy to let himself appreciate that it existed at all, to enjoy the miracle of Yuzuru, warm and smiling and somehow still breathing by his side. Yuzuru found his hand again, hooking their fingers together, and Shoma smiled slightly, glancing up at him for a beat before shifting himself to rest his head in the crook of Yuzuru’s neck. It filled every dark corner inside him – the strength of feeling he had at being with Yuzuru like this, silent and free from any expectations or opinions. This person – needy and whining and always moving – was peaceful and whole and settled, just for him, demanding nothing but his presence in return. And that had become something more important to Shoma than he had realised – Yuzuru had stolen past his guards full of hope and thunder to make himself at home beside him, and it had come so naturally that Shoma had barely even noticed it happening. He drew in a deep breath, turning his head just slightly and smiling at the feeling of Yuzuru’s warm skin against his cheek, the thick, powdery scent of bergamot covering any lingering trace of wood smoke. ‘Yuzu,’ he mumbled, his voice rough and muffled, and Yuzuru made a small sound of acknowledgment from the back of his throat, gentle and coaxing as it vibrated through the muscles of his neck and into Shoma’s skin. It was enough to make Shoma smile somewhat shyly. ‘I just…I want you to know that…I feel like I need to say that…’ He sighed, swallowing hard and looking studiously up at the ceiling. Yuzuru gave his fingers the slightest of squeezes, shifting to press a kiss to his hair. Shoma bit his lip. ‘This is why I don’t talk most of the time…words never do what I want them to,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru let out a soft, sympathetic laugh. ‘I just feel like you should know that-’

Shoma wasn’t sure if it was a relief or a devastating blow that his words were cut off by a sudden, insistent burr from Yuzuru’s phone; he felt like someone had crashed into his back and thrown him off course, and he scrunched his face up in a wince as Yuzuru twisted to look at the screen, throwing him an apologetic glance over his shoulder.  
‘It’s your brother,’ he said, looking at Shoma like he was asking permission to accept the call, and Shoma simply groaned, rubbing a hand over his blushing face and rolling his eyes.  
‘Of course it is,’ he said dryly, shifting to let Yuzuru sit up. ‘You should answer it. He’ll only keep calling if you don’t.’ Yuzuru hesitated, looking down at him with a mixture of hope and concern, and Shoma offered him a lopsided smile, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘It’s fine. I don’t even know what I was talking about anyway.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, giving a tiny nod of his head before turning his attention back to his phone.

‘Superpower Boy!’ Even if Shoma had wanted to be annoyed with his brother, it was hopeless to try and muster any real irritation with him in the face of the raw, genuine delight in his voice – and Shoma felt a butterfly-light flutter of affection in his chest when he caught the bright smile on Yuzuru’s face, saw the earnest warmth in his eyes as he let out a high, happy laugh.  
‘Hi!’ Yuzuru waved, cute and childish and far too enthusiastic, and Shoma had to fight not to smile, pursing his lips and quickly looking down before Yuzuru or Itsuki could notice.  
‘Well thanks to my useless brother for letting me know you’re alive, huh?’ Itsuki said, the bratty huff in his voice a calculated move to mask the very real relief Shoma could see in his expression, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up in a mixture of amusement and mild protest.  
‘You can’t have been so worried if you called my phone though, right?’ he pointed out, eyes sparkling, and Itsuki waved a dismissive hand.  
‘Whatever – I figured if I couldn’t get a hold of him, then maybe he’d finally managed to get a hold of you…’ He paused, nose wrinkling in a show of disgust. ‘Ok, ew, I didn’t mean that to sound like that _at all_.’ Shoma blushed, rolling his eyes.  
‘Oh my God,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru simply laughed, pulling a face.  
‘I guess I can’t fault your logic, right?’  
‘I’m the brains of the Uno Brothers operation,’ Itsuki nodded.  
‘Which makes your brother the beauty?’ Yuzuru teased, and Itsuki’s expression crumpled instantly.  
‘Ok, definitely not where I was going with that,’ he replied, narrowing his eyes at Yuzuru in a show of teasing suspicion. ‘You tricked me into that, right? That was some sort of voodoo mind trick.’ Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘I’m good, huh?’ he said, airy and gleeful, and when Itsuki stuck his tongue out at him he quickly broke into a gentle laugh, slumping slightly and offering him a kind smile. ‘So, you want to talk to your beautiful brother or are you just here to be wholly unimpressed by my survival ability?’ Itsuki grinned.  
‘If it helps, I’m happy you’re alive,’ he shrugged. ‘But…yeah, I kind of need to yell at him.’ Yuzuru suppressed a smile, nodding sagely and handing the phone over to Shoma.  
‘Shoma, your brother would like to speak with you,’ he said, sing-song and absurdly happy, and Shoma shot him a dry glare, taking the phone and trying not to laugh when Yuzuru nudged him in the side by way of an apology.

‘Hi, Nightmare,’ Itsuki beamed, his eyes all mischief but something sweetly genuine about the way he smiled that made a part of Shoma forgive him instantly.  
‘Hi, Idiot,’ Shoma replied, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a small sigh as he leant forwards to squint down, struggling to make out details in the darkness of his brother’s room.  
‘Hey, you can’t call me names when you’re the one who didn’t call me – you could’ve kept your phone on, let me know you got your boyfriend back already.’ Shoma flinched slightly at that, shooting Yuzuru a nervous glance, but there was no reaction apparent on his face, his lips still curved in a faint, absent smile as he picked at a loose thread in his jacket.  
‘Shut it, Brat,’ Shoma huffed quickly, shaking his head and curling in on himself in an effort to hide the blush from his cheeks. Itsuki arched an eyebrow.  
‘Oo, touched a nerve,’ he smirked, and Shoma glowered at him.  
‘My phone ran out of battery and I fell asleep, ok?’ he said, trying to convey a silent “Please Not Now” through the messy pixels of the phone’s camera, and Itsuki pursed his lips, taking a moment to consider his options. ‘Seriously: end of story.’  
‘Except it’s definitely not,’ Itsuki shrugged, matter-of-fact, and Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Itsuki,’ he said warningly, and Itsuki offered him a supposedly innocent smile, tipping his head and widening his eyes for effect.  
‘What, Sho? It isn’t: Yuzu’s back.’ His expression was gleefully impish, and Shoma let out a small, strangled laugh, rolling his eyes and letting out a groan.  
‘Well…yeah…but-’ Shoma closed his mouth, shaking his head slightly and blowing his hair out of his face. ‘Whatever, it’s not the point.’  
‘Yuzuru Hanyu not being the point in a conversation with you? Not possible.’ Itsuki’s smile was infuriatingly smug, and Shoma looked over at Yuzuru, who did his best to smother his smile, raising his eyebrows at Shoma enquiringly.  
‘I hate both of you,’ Shoma muttered.  
‘If it helps? You’re not the only one making everything about Superpower Boy. The people who remember you’re my brother all seem to think I’m going to have some insider info or something – they’ve seen the drama on the news and want me to tell them all the juicy details of Yuzuru Hanyu being mauled by a bear or whatever.’  
‘Mauled by a bear?’ Yuzuru laughed, and Itsuki shrugged, unbothered.  
‘Or moving to a secret tropical island or commencing world domination or…whatever the story is now. I don’t know, I kind of stop listening after “Hey, your brother went to the Foundation, right?” so…they could be asking me anything, really.’ Shoma’s expression softened slightly at that, and he slumped a little, studying Itsuki’s face more carefully; his hair was an even bigger disaster than Shoma’s own, tangling in his eyes in matted swoops, and in the pallid glow of his phone screen the tiredness in his features was highlighted, his face carved out in dark shadows and hollow edges.  
‘Did your friends ease up on you?’ Shoma asked gently. Itsuki pulled a face, trying to seem dismissive, but Shoma saw a slight wound there.  
‘They don’t get it, I guess. Half of them don’t even like their siblings, you know? I give you a hard time but…you’re my best friend. Usually when things are rubbish I just talk to you. But you felt awful too so…’ He shook his head and stifled a yawn. ‘It doesn’t matter now, though.’ A smile touched his features, sleepy but genuine as he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘You’re happy again,’ he stated softly, and Shoma’s lips twitched as he looked down somewhat shyly. ‘Not even just “the world didn’t end after all” happy – you’re, like, _happy_ happy. It’s nice. I don’t think you’ve been this dopily over the moon since we were kids – it makes the other stuff worth it.’ Shoma looked at him thoughtfully, his features pinching in slight worry.  
‘What, even the press and the secrets and…whatever the hell that goodbye was?’ he asked faintly, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh, and Itsuki shot him a warm, earnest smile, taking a moment to look him up and down and flicking a brief glance to Yuzuru, who was sitting quietly, his chin on his knees and his eyes politely turned away towards the window.  
‘I think it’s worth it,’ Itsuki said softly, before suddenly letting his expression go wicked again, eyes bright and mischievous in a heartbeat. ‘Besides, Fake Shoma? Way worse at gaming than you – I actually get to win sometimes for a change. And no one has a tantrum about it when I do.’ Shoma laughed despite himself, groaning and turning his eyes to the ceiling.  
‘I don’t have a tantrum, I just…tend to think a rematch is a better idea than you do.’ Itsuki spluttered out a laugh of his own.  
‘Yuzu, tiebreaker – and no siding with Sho just because he’s your boyfriend.’ Shoma shot Itsuki another warning look, but Yuzuru didn’t flicker, glancing over at Shoma with a soft smile and tipping his head to one side apologetically.  
‘I mean…’ He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his expression a wince but his eyes all amusement. ‘I don’t really have much room to call anyone intense, but…’  
‘You traitor!’ Shoma let out, a laugh edging his tone as he gave Yuzuru a soft shove, and Yuzuru smiled at him playfully, scrunching his nose up and falling against his side with a laugh.  
‘As long as Fake Shoma is more convincing to the press and the Alliance than he is to your brother, huh? That’s the important thing.’ Shoma huffed.  
‘If that was meant to be an apology? It was a terrible one, Hanyu,’ he said, but he leant into Yuzuru’s side slightly, ignoring the knowing look his brother gave him.

There was a brief pause in which Itsuki looked between Shoma and Yuzuru thoughtfully, his tired eyes suddenly alert and determined, and he sat up a little, pursing his lips.  
‘So…everyone is seriously ok, then? Because, honestly? I’m really ready for the most significant trauma in my life to go back to being my maths homework and not…you know…major international incidents and life-or-death middle-of-the-night airport runs.’ Shoma laughed, glancing at Yuzuru with amused affection.  
‘I think that’s my brother’s way of kicking you out of our lives, Thunder Boy.’  
‘I don’t know what you’re all talking about – I slept through most of this stuff,’ Yuzuru shrugged, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.  
‘Not funny,’ he said, shoving him lightly, and Yuzuru laughed, resting his head on Shoma’s shoulder for a beat, his arm slipping around his back and his hand squeezing his side, making him shiver. Yuzuru kept his smile light, looking back at Itsuki like nothing had happened.  
‘Speaking of maths homework – did you ever finish yours? You still had ten more questions last time we talked.’ Itsuki grinned, unable to hide the genuine joy he felt at Yuzuru’s attention; the sweetness of it made Shoma smile, and he wished, desperately, that the two of them were in the same room so he could pull them both close to him.  
‘I finished it pretty fast after you helped me,’ Itsuki told Yuzuru with an almost shy grin. ‘I even did well enough that my teacher asked me if I got my brother to do it for me.’ Itsuki’s eyes glinted. ‘I told her to go talk to your old maths teacher, Sho.’ Shoma pulled a face at him.  
‘Shut up, I wasn’t that bad.’  
‘Oh you so were.’ Itsuki looked back to Yuzuru, a roguish sparkle in his eyes. ‘Your boyfriend is pretty dumb, Hanyu – I think maybe you’re out of his league.’ Shoma felt his stomach lurch.  
‘ _Itsuki_ ,’ he said through gritted teeth, but Yuzuru remained unfazed, tilting his head at Itsuki thoughtfully.  
‘Since your brother is kind of the reason I’m not stuck half-gone in a Grey Zone right now? I think I’m going to side with Shoma on this one.’ Itsuki smirked.  
‘Valid choice,’ he nodded. ‘And I’m not just saying that because I need your help again…’  
‘You know he’s not Google, right?’ Shoma remarked archly.  
‘Hey, let me get something useful out of my brother being mixed up in international headlines, please, huh?’ Itsuki protested, glancing back at Yuzuru with a hopeful smile. ‘And speaking of international headlines…how good are you on international power politics?’ Yuzuru laughed, his eyes disappearing into two happy crescents for a moment.  
‘I’ve lived through most of it for the past ten years,’ he pointed out, wrinkling his nose. ‘What do you need to know?’  
‘Just whether or not to write an argument for or against the Helsinki Treaty,’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘That was…what, 2016?’ Yuzuru’s eyes lit up.  
‘2017. And argue for it, definitely,’ he nodded enthusiastically.  
‘Why?’ Yuzuru narrowed his eyes.  
‘Isn’t that the part you’re supposed to know?’ When Itsuki shrugged again Yuzuru laughed, fond yet still faintly despairing, and he pursed his lips as he thought for a moment. ‘Japan did well from it – they got two of the research facility awards that were up for negotiation. From an international relations point of view it wasn’t so good though. The Russians and the Americans got into it over power training techniques. Some Canadian politician actually cried.’ Yuzuru smiled, absurdly wistful. ‘It was kind of wild, honestly. But I had fun.’  
‘Country with the most funding?’ Itsuki enquired, and Shoma frowned, sensing something in his brother’s attitude he didn’t quite trust.  
‘From Helsinki? Probably Russia,’ Yuzuru said simply. Itsuki nodded.  
‘Major developments?’  
‘China agreeing to contribute more to the UN’s taskforce. Spain remembering Javi existed…until he accidentally got them into a Grey Zone policy dispute with Canada and they sent him home early for…you know…nearly causing a war.’ Itsuki nodded again, casually considering, and Shoma’s frown only deepened as he tried to figure out where his brother was going with his questions.  
‘Number of countries that attended?’  
‘Fifty, I think.’  
‘Japanese Foundation delegation?’  
‘Nobunari, Kanako, Wakaba, Keiji…me. Dai was going to come but there was an event in Japan that needed someone high-profile. He showed up for the last day though.’  
‘Foundation’s role?’  
‘Secure more funding for overseas Foundation offices, especially for the wider part of Asia – South East Asia was Brian’s focus.’  
‘Ok. And what about when my brother’s birthday is?’ Shoma blinked in surprise, but Yuzuru didn’t flinch, his expression calm and quiet even as Itsuki’s eyes gleamed in challenge.  
‘December 17th.’  
‘Year?’ Itsuki said with relish, and Yuzuru arched an eyebrow. Shoma felt his cheeks go hot once more.  
‘’97.’  
‘Best friend?’  
‘Ultimately? You, though he would never admit it outright.’  
‘Favourite colour?’ Shoma groaned, but Yuzuru and Itsuki ignored him, caught in some kind of long-distance challenge.  
‘Anything you find at dusk.’  
‘Favourite time of year?’  
‘Spring, right before it turns into summer.’  
‘Favourite place to go?’  
‘No such thing – stay in bed, sleep more. Always.’ Yuzuru tilted his head. ‘They ask you the strangest things in your homework, huh?’ Itsuki’s eyes glittered and Yuzuru offered him a knowing smile. ‘Did I pass your test?’ he enquired lightly. Itsuki laughed.  
‘One more question.’ Shoma groaned again, and Yuzuru let out a bubble of laughter, bumping into him teasingly before looking back at Itsuki with a grin.  
‘One more question,’ he agreed. Itsuki’s smile gentled just a little, and he glanced down for a beat.  
‘Ok.’ He licked his lips, taking a moment to think before looking slowly back up into Yuzuru’s face. ‘What do you think of my brother?’ Yuzuru smiled.  
‘The world,’ he said simply. ‘But I think you knew that,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘I think you just wanted me to say it so you can tell him “I told you so” later…right?’ A slow grin spread over Itsuki’s features, and he nodded for a moment before looking back to Shoma, his eyes glimmering, somehow joking and deadly serious at the same time.  
‘Ok, Sho…you can keep him around, I guess.’ Shoma let out a splutter of a laugh, shaking his head and looking from his brother to Yuzuru and back again.  
‘You are so dead,’ he sighed. Itsuki’s smile was blithe.  
‘It had to be done,’ he replied through a yawn, and Shoma rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.  
‘Itsuki just go to bed – it’s, like, three in the morning or something back home, right?’ Itsuki yawned again, giving another nod, and Shoma smirked at him. ‘Then I won’t even have to kill you, because Mum will do it for me when she finds you unconscious instead of getting ready for school in a few hours’ time.’  
‘Please, she’s tried to wake you up before, Shoma, I’m cake in comparison.’  
‘And if I tell her you were calling me instead of sleeping…?’ Itsuki pulled a face.  
‘Don’t flatter yourself, I was calling Yuzu – major status points for me in Mum’s eyes, sucks for your blackmail plan.’ Shoma attempted a glare and Itsuki laughed, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Alright, alright. I’m going. I just…wanted to make sure you were good, you know? Both of you.’ Shoma’s expression softened slightly and Itsuki wrinkled his nose at him. ‘Don’t make a big deal out of it – I’m not going soft on you, ok? I just…miss you. Kind of. And you were going through it and I didn’t want you to be alone. But now you’re not so…it’s fine…and…I’m going to stop talking.’ Shoma let out a soft laugh, offering Itsuki a small but genuine smile.  
‘Your secret’s safe with me…and probably Yuzu.’ He flicked a glance up at Yuzuru – who smiled sweetly, nodding, short and sharp – and Itsuki’s smile turned almost timid as he looked down with a small sniff, squirming slightly, Yuzuru’s approval clearly mattering more to him than he wanted to let on.  
‘Yeah, well…I guess I just needed to talk to you. So that I knew that you were ok. And so that I could maybe remind you that it’s not you two against the world, you know? I mean, ok, fine…maybe, like, 40% of the world or whatever but…’ Itsuki rolled his eyes. ‘There are people on your side too, you know? Besides just each other.’ Shoma smiled.  
‘You know you’re actually not that terrible sometimes, right?’  
‘I’m never terrible, you’re just incredibly ungrateful as an older sibling.’ Itsuki straightened then, squaring his shoulders. ‘And if you ever try to use this conversation against me next time we fight, then I will end you. I will end you and then I will end your dumb, dramatic boyfriend so he doesn’t come for me in revenge.’  
‘And you ruined it,’ Shoma grumbled good-naturedly, rolling his eyes, and Itsuki simply smiled. Shoma couldn’t help but smile back at him, shaking his head slightly and letting out a fond sigh. ‘Go to sleep, Moron.’  
‘Talk soon, Disaster. And charge your damn phone already – I want to nag you personally when I’m too tired to function at school tomorrow.’

As Itsuki hung up, Shoma let out a low groan, flopping back down against the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. He took a moment in the silence to try and dispel the mixture of anxiety and embarrassment from his skin, and Yuzuru allowed him the space, turning to look down at him with a peaceful smile, resting his head back against his knees with a soft sigh. Shoma regarded him from the corner of his eye; he was soft and golden-edged in the sunlight, his face all contentment as he took a moment to close his eyes – if Itsuki’s meddling had unsettled him at all, he was hiding it well, Shoma thought idly.

‘When did we stop being best friends?’ Shoma let out into the quiet, and Yuzuru’s eyes fluttered open, something vaguely wounded shining in their brown depths for a moment as he lifted his head to look down at Shoma thoughtfully.  
‘We stopped being best friends?’ he asked, tilting his head slightly, and Shoma’s heart shook a little inside his chest, doubt curling in the pit of his stomach.  
‘I mean-’ He cut himself off with a shake of his head, looking down shyly and blowing out a breath. ‘Maybe?’ He risked another look at Yuzuru, whose gaze was gentle and sweet, his lips curving in the barest whisper of realisation. ‘It’s just…my brother called you my boyfriend, like, ten times just now. And you didn’t tell him he was wrong.’ Yuzuru’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and Shoma felt the blush he had only just banished start to creep back along his jaw and down his neck.  
‘Shoma, before you are anything else to me, you are still always my best friend…even if you had never kissed me again, I wouldn’t have wanted to let go of that part of what we share.’ He shrugged then, his smile turning lopsided and quiet. ‘I don’t know when you became more than _just_ my best friend, though – somewhere in the space before that, I suppose. Somewhere in the garden. Or maybe between the pages of my notebooks. The creases in my jackets.’ Yuzuru looked up, a smile still on his lips but something rich and intense in the way he met Shoma’s gaze; Shoma felt the look like a blow to the ribs, dull and breath-stealing, and he swallowed, finding his throat dry and his chest tight. ‘Maybe that’s the point, though; that there is no answer, there is only a series of choices that have carried us here so easily we didn’t notice it happening.’ He hummed then, lying down next to Shoma and propping himself up on his elbow. ‘You know your brother was only doing that because he knows you won’t; he’s forcing you to ask yourself these questions – to ask me these questions – and make a choice, right?’ Shoma bit his lip, looking down, and Yuzuru touched his finger to his chin, forcing his eyes back up immediately. ‘Shoma.’ Shoma let out a faint, overwhelmed laugh, drawing in a breath and looking up for a moment before meeting Yuzuru’s eyes again.  
‘You know you don’t have to put up with him,’ he said, his voice small and stilted. ‘I mean…you’re, like… _Yuzuru Hanyu_. And he’s just my idiot brother with no sense of fear and a mouth that’s too big for his own good. I don’t need you to deal with him just for my sake.’ Yuzuru’s smile was almost amused, and he leant in to press a chaste kiss to Shoma’s lips before drawing back and flopping down beside him.  
‘You know me better than to think me being _Yuzuru Hanyu_ has anything to do with anything, Shoma,’ he chided gently. He smiled slightly and Shoma smiled back. ‘Besides, I have a lot of time for your brother. There are some people in this world who will speak honestly to you without regard for superficial things like status or reputation – these rare, kind-spirited, blunt people who will give you their time and their point of view without so many social inhibitions. People who warm you right through.’ Yuzuru paused, eyes twinkling as he nudged Shoma’s side lightly. ‘It’s a trait which runs in your family, huh? But the only difference between you and him is that you possess a greater sense of caution, self-preservation – he rushes in and sometimes stumbles, you wait to be certain you are surefooted enough to always be able to pick up yourself and those you care about, should the worst happen.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips then, the light dancing in his eyes. ‘Although…maybe in this? He’s right to go forward the way he does. Right to trust you won’t find yourself back in high school with some short-sighted boy who didn’t care to know your character.’ He shrugged. ‘Not everyone will care less for you than you do for them, Shoma – you just have to know the difference between a person who will value that depth of feeling in you and a person who will disregard it.’ Shoma’s heart stuttered slightly, and he let out a small laugh, smiling shyly.  
‘I think I know the difference,’ he murmured, eyes turning up to Yuzuru’s open face with keen hope, something total and overwhelming building inside him. ‘You’ll always be the best version of the song to me. And I want to trust that sound, I just-’ He closed his eyes then blew out a breath, remembering the way the absence of Yuzuru’s lightning had felt and his desperation when he’d not been able to reach him – when he looked back at Yuzuru he couldn’t bring himself to doubt it any longer. ‘You’re mine, right?’ Yuzuru nodded and Shoma’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile as he nodded back. ‘And I’m yours.’ He swallowed. ‘I don’t do unconditional: I’m selfish and I’m stubborn and there are so many clauses on this – because this isn’t some storybook. This is real life. That’s the thing I like most about you; that you’re actually human, actually here. And I need everything we are to be that way too, no pretending. So I’m not going to tell you I don’t need anything from you in return the way I’m probably supposed to. Because I need everything from you, Yuzu. For as long as I can – for however much time it lasts. But…you will get everything back. Selfish and stubborn and completely-conditional as it is.’ Yuzuru’s smile was gorgeous – hazy gold and honey-soft, his eyes alight and his lightning so intense Shoma could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.  
‘That sounds like a deal,’ Yuzuru whispered, hooking their little fingers together and leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

When they drew back from each other Yuzuru shot Shoma a faintly amused smile, blowing out a breath. ‘Ok, no more deep, searching questions for now – I still have to talk with Brian again later, and Tracy is going to be back soon so…’ He pursed his lips, tipping his head back and forth as though he was trying to do a particularly complex sum before giving Shoma a sly smile, his eyebrow arching. ‘Food?’ he suggested, and Shoma let out a breath he hadn’t noticed himself holding, a smile coming to his face immediately as he nodded.  
‘Yes. _Please_.’ Yuzuru laughed, pushing himself up, and Shoma followed suit, watching him stretch over to grab a takeaway bag from the side and offering him a soft, heavy-lidded smile.  
‘Next time I tell you you’re awful? Don’t believe me.’ Yuzuru laughed brightly, handing Shoma a carton of food and wrinkling his nose at him.  
‘Please: I worked that one out the first week.’

The two of them were playfighting over the last of Mao’s stress-cookies when Tracy appeared in the doorway, her expression an attempt at seeming unimpressed that didn’t fit with the fond delight behind her eyes. She took a moment to watch them, allowing the squabbling to go on as Yuzuru held the cookie just out of Shoma’s reach, Shoma calling him childish names before resorting to underhand tactics and poking his ribs until he crumpled, laughing and admitting surrender and finally letting Shoma take the cookie and bite a victorious chunk out of it.  
‘Shoma Uno and Yuzuru Hanyu: why am I not surprised?’ Tracy said when it became clear neither one of them had noticed her, and they both turned in unison, snapping to amused attention as they sat side by side, Yuzuru subtly reaching across to grab his phone, slipping it into Shoma’s hand behind their backs and giving Shoma a secret smile as he slid it out of view beneath the pillow. ‘Still our resident limpets, eh?’ Tracy arched an eyebrow at them, her smile warm and kind despite her folded arms, and Yuzuru and Shoma both simply looked back at her with wide eyes and barely-contained laughter, matching troublemaker smiles on their faces that made Tracy roll her eyes fondly. ‘Well, I hope you got some rest at least,’ she sighed. ‘I talked to Brian and Ghislain, and we’ve agreed – _provisionally _– to let Ghislain run some Warrior power trials with you.’ Yuzuru let out a happy sound and Tracy tried her best not to smile. ‘And before you get your hopes up? This is entirely dependent on the tests I’m going to run with you now – so I hope you fit in some sleep before sneaking Shoma back in here, hmm?’ Her eyes glittered with undisguised affection, and Yuzuru beamed at her, carefree and entirely confident.  
‘Of course. And when I pass all my tests will you finally let me go?’  
‘Don’t push it, Trouble,’ Tracy laughed, shaking her head at him. ‘We’ll see how things go and take it from there. Although I have to admit…Shoma here really did a number on you. I’m actually starting to be concerned he healed you a little too well.’ Yuzuru huffed.  
‘Why do people keep saying that?’ he demanded petulantly, and Tracy offered him a wry smile.  
‘Probably because you’re a handful. But…I suppose I should know better than to try and keep you cooped up in here.’ She looked over at Shoma then, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes teasingly. ‘And you, Mister: I believe there is a full programme of lectures going on today…care to explain to me what you’re doing distracting my patient instead?’ Shoma sucked on his bottom lip, his expression an impish attempt at innocence that made Tracy’s eyes sparkle even more.  
‘Technically? I’m not here at all, though,’ he shrugged, tilting his head. ‘On the official computer I’m still listed as on leave, so…’ He shrugged again and Tracy laughed, throwing her hands up in playful despair.  
‘Just what we need – another one of my Healers with an answer for everything.’ Shoma flashed her a sheepish smile and she winked at him, her expression gentling. ‘Well, Mr. I’m-Not-Really-Here; think you could maybe consider going and finding some university work to do or something? I need to get this one to concentrate…and something tells me that won’t happen with you still around.’ Yuzuru let out an indignant sound of protest and Tracy laughed. ‘You know it’s true, Yuzu.’ Shoma smiled, looking at Yuzuru with a wrinkle of his nose.  
‘It’s fine. I actually have, like…three deadlines I’m behind schedule for anyway.’ Tracy clapped her hands together.  
‘That’s settled then. If it helps I just sent Jason off to the library to study for a test for his Japanese course – I’m sure he’d be glad of the help,’ she declared. ‘I’ll go and get my things together in the other room; come join me when you’re ready?’ she told Yuzuru, who nodded obediently. Tracy beamed at him, giving Shoma another fond wink before turning on her heel and leaving.__

__Shoma stretched, pushing himself off the bed and glancing back over his shoulder at Yuzuru, who was watching him with one of his up-to-no-good smiles, his eyes dangerously dark and his lightning sparking at Shoma’s edges.  
‘What?’ Shoma asked with a soft groan, and Yuzuru laughed, his face crinkling up for a moment as he reached out a foot to aim a harmless kick at Shoma’s side.  
‘Why do you always assume the worst of me?’  
‘Because I literally just had to save you from the edge of a Grey Zone, like, twelve hours ago and I’m _tired_ , Yuzu,’ Shoma complained, smiling despite himself, and Yuzuru pulled a face, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.  
‘Details,’ he said lightly, rolling his eyes, and Shoma laughed.  
‘You’re dumb, you know that?’  
‘Dumb enough that you want to jailbreak me?’ Yuzuru shot back quickly, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him. ‘We can go to the garden?’ Yuzuru tugged at his hand, making him stumble closer, almost overbalancing onto the bed beside him. ‘Please, Sho – I need to get out of here. And I want to tell you what happened – I need to get it out to someone other than Brian, someone who doesn’t have to ask questions because their job depends on it but just…because.’ He shrugged, glancing down for a beat. ‘That’s what you do – ask the best questions and make things seem…better, you know?’ Shoma sighed, perching on the edge of the bed and leaning his forehead to Yuzuru’s.  
‘You’re blackmailing me emotionally and I’m going to fall for it, aren’t I,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru smiled somewhat guiltily, kissing the tip of Shoma’s nose before leaning their heads together with a light hum, his knuckles grazing Shoma’s cheek fondly.  
‘You say emotional blackmail, I say making a valid point.’ He pulled back, expression suddenly playful again. ‘Unless you have plans with someone else…’ he teased, and Shoma let out a soft huff of laughter, giving his arm a weak punch.  
‘I hate you.’  
‘Not buying it.’ He pressed a quick kiss to Shoma’s lips before tipping his head a little to force him to meet his gaze. ‘So…are you in?’ Shoma rolled his eyes.  
‘Like you don’t know,’ he sighed, lips twisting to one side as he fought a smile. ‘Aren’t you powerful enough to jailbreak yourself?’  
‘Everything is more fun when I’m with you, though.’ Shoma let out a laughing groan.  
‘Urgh, stop being a cheeseball before I have to make sure I’m actually never seen with you ever again,’ he said, smile sly, and Yuzuru’s face was pure delight as he quirked an eyebrow at Shoma, kissing the side of his face cheekily.  
‘Would you rather I asked Kazuki?’ he teased against Shoma’s skin, laughing and quickly ducking away when Shoma smacked at him.  
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ Yuzuru laughed again, warm and rough and full of vibration, and Shoma leant in to steal a quick kiss from his lips. ‘Midnight?’ he asked, feeling Yuzuru smile against his lips in return.  
‘Always.’ They pulled apart and Yuzuru offered out his little finger to Shoma to seal the promise. Shoma rolled his eyes, but he hooked his finger around Yuzuru’s all the same, letting him shake his hand that way before tipping his body backwards so he slid off the bed.  
‘I’m going. Jason will actually be low-energy after dealing with you.’ He turned away, but Yuzuru caught him again, and Shoma raised his eyebrows expectantly.  
‘There’s a key to my room in your notebook – in the pocket at the back. Bring my laptop for me?’ Shoma frowned.  
‘But when did you-’  
‘Ages ago,’ Yuzuru said with a casual shrug, and Shoma let out a small breath of laughter, shaking his head slightly.  
‘Ok. Good to know.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Fine – but what’s in it for me?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, pretending to take a moment to consider it, a devilish smile in his eyes as he regarded Shoma thoughtfully.  
‘There’s about a hundred jackets under my bed…I don’t think I’d mind if one went missing somehow. And it wouldn’t smell of airplane air…’ Shoma smirked, glancing down with a shy shake of his head before regarding Yuzuru from the corner of his eye.  
‘What if I took your Foundation Winter Show hoodie, huh? Your favourite, with the stars and your name all iridescent and the super-soft sleeves?’ Yuzuru shrugged, nonchalantly happy in a way letting other people paw all over his stuff wouldn’t usually allow him to be.  
‘It’s on the back of my desk chair,’ he told him, and Shoma laughed, faint and bashful. Yuzuru leaned up to press another kiss to his lips. ‘Take it. It’s yours.’_ _

__As he drifted out into the crisp and airy sunlight of the courtyard, Shoma knew he must’ve looked like a hopeless case; his hair was mussed, his cheeks still flushed from Yuzuru’s touch, an imprint of emotion forming the barest hint of a smile which he couldn’t keep out of his face. It was a distracting, absurd sort of happiness – embarrassingly full and completely unshakeable, a burr of light and electricity that radiated off him and lit him up inside, and when he closed his eyes his sensing power crackled in his ears as the static of the same feeling reflected inside Yuzuru bounced straight back to him. The totality of it pressed at his ribs, pushed out a laugh from him he didn’t know the cause of and made him run across the courtyard just because he could, because there was no one around to see and the sky was clear and the breeze high. He felt reckless and obvious and overwhelmed – for once he didn’t really mind.  
‘Wow, Shoma,’ Jason laughed when he eventually made it to the library. ‘I don’t know how to say this in Japanese but…I think we’re going to need to fit you with a dimmer switch if this is what just a couple of hours with Yuzu does to you.’  
‘Don’t you have a test to study for or something?’ Shoma groaned lightly, still smiling despite himself as Jason shot him an undeniable grin.  
‘Aw, I’m sorry, Shoma…but, seriously? You’re basically, like, rainbows and butterflies and fireworks right now – it’s kind of precious, honestly.’ Jason shrugged, reaching out to brush at something on Shoma’s cheek with an impish smile. ‘Also? That is totally Yuzu’s super-shiny lip balm stuck on your cheek.’  
‘Oh my God,’ Shoma moaned, resting his head on the desk as Jason laughed again.  
‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell…but we might need to pour a bucket of cold water over you or something before we let you out in public, because…you’re lit up like a neon sign – and if Adam or Ashley saw you right now? I’m not sure they’d shut up about how cute it was for…best case scenario? Years, probably.’ He pulled his chair closer and nudged Shoma’s side until he looked up at him through his fringe. ‘So come on, Shoma: spill the details. Did the big reunion come with some new clarity on where you guys stand? Or are we going to have to keep pretending you two are just friends for the rest of eternity?’_ _

__Shoma wasn’t sure how he would have made it through the wait for midnight if he hadn’t had Jason’s bubbly kindness to keep his mind occupied; he was unfocused on the work he was supposed to be getting on with, and if Jason hadn’t been generous enough to let him help with his revision, Shoma was almost certain he would have lost his mind during the painfully slow-moving hours of the afternoon. Some part of him was still exhausted, but sleep was impossible, and so, when it went dark and he and Jason finally went their separate ways after dinner, instead of going back to his own room, Shoma went straight to Yuzuru’s. He had been ridiculously delighted to find the keycard exactly where Yuzuru had said it would be, and the thrill when he slipped it in the slot and the door clunked open was almost overwhelming, a bubble of laughter escaping from the back of his throat. The scent of bergamot and jasmine hit his lungs, and a residual echo of lightning hung in the air; Shoma could feel a hundred memories ghosting over his skin of time spent driving Yuzuru to distraction in the space. When he had left the Foundation, he had wilfully looked in all the wrong places for the indentations of his presence, but there was comfort in realising those pockets of belonging were still there despite it all, carved out for him indelibly. In the far reaches of his consciousness, Yuzuru’s thunder rumbled – a reminder of the words Shoma had barely let himself process because of the intensity of the emotion they made him feel. _I’m yours_. So simple, and yet from someone like Yuzuru, they were anything but. Shoma knew because he was built the same way._ _

__For the first time in his life, Shoma was willingly on time without even having to work at it – there was an unstoppable sense of anticipation inside him, just for being in Yuzuru’s orbit again, a headrush that lingered from his sharp one-eighty turn which he couldn’t shake off. And it seemed he wasn’t the only one who felt it: when Shoma reached Yuzuru’s hospital room, he found him waiting, cross-legged and bolt upright, eyes beady and alert as he clutched his backpack to his chest, and Shoma couldn’t help but smirk at him, narrowing his eyes in a show of judgement that only seemed to make Yuzuru’s eyes brighter.  
‘You know you’re like that one weird kid that couldn’t wait for school to start again after summer, right?’ Shoma said dryly, and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose at him.  
‘Mean. But more mean to you if you think I treat spending time with you like a chore.’ Shoma laughed despite himself. He came further into the room, sighing slightly and rolling his eyes.  
‘Has anyone ever told you you’re ridiculous?’ he asked softly, his smile twitching fractionally wider as Yuzuru tugged him closer to the bed by his shirt, eyes glinting wickedly.  
‘Hmm…well, there was this one boy.’ He tilted his head, something gorgeous about him in the half-light that made Shoma’s breath stutter just slightly as he looked him up and down. ‘Short. Sly. Kinda stormy-eyed. Cracked lips. Tasted of sea salt and war.’ Shoma’s smile turned shy, and he glanced down, wrinkling his nose slightly.  
‘You make that sound like it matters.’ Yuzuru tugged at him again.  
‘Well, he matters to me – he’s just too stubborn to admit it sometimes.’ Shoma bit his lip, looking up into Yuzuru’s face slowly and smiling when he saw the light in his eyes. Yuzuru set his bag aside, pushing himself up to kneel so their eyes were level. ‘Hi,’ Yuzuru whispered, and Shoma let out a faint laugh as Yuzuru leant in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.  
‘Hi,’ Shoma murmured against the curve of his smile, tasting marshmallow and feeling something just beneath his skin flutter. Yuzuru drew back slowly, watching with a starry, delighted gaze as Shoma’s eyes opened once more to look back at him.  
‘Nice jacket,’ he said lightly, quirking an eyebrow as he made a show of taking in his own name down the sleeve and the Foundation logo with the starry sky picked out over the top of it, before looking back up into Shoma’s face impishly. Shoma narrowed his eyes at him slightly, lips pursed and a trace of amusement glimmering in his eyes, and Yuzuru simply scrunched his face up at him impishly before reaching out to pull the hood up over Shoma’s head. Shoma blinked bewilderedly, blowing his mussed hair out of his eyes in a show of irritation, and Yuzuru’s smile shone. ‘Beautiful,’ he declared, sitting back on his heels, and Shoma let out a groan of laughter, rolling his eyes.  
‘Shut up, I’m a mess.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips.  
‘Maybe to me your mess is beautiful,’ he said gently, dragging Shoma down by his jacket and stretching up just enough to meet him in a kiss, his long, rough fingers curling in the hair at the nape of Shoma’s neck as he pressed against him with his other hand, his wiry frame all tension, pulling Shoma’s own body into life and making him have to work to keep his balance, his hands moving to Yuzuru’s neck, his waist, drawing him closer._ _

__As they pulled apart Shoma swayed backwards, blinking as he tried to catch himself and watching as Yuzuru sat back with easy grace, his eyes heavy-lidded and knowing.  
‘Trust you to go to hell and back and come out more obnoxious than ever,’ Shoma said with a raspy laugh, tilting his head slightly to study Yuzuru’s face for a moment. ‘Definitely ridiculous.’ Yuzuru laughed softly, wetting his lips and stretching up to kiss Shoma’s forehead.  
‘You’re the best,’ he said against Shoma’s skin before sitting back with a happy sigh. ‘Did you deal with Tracy?’ he asked, and Shoma laughed, nodding.  
‘Yeah. Jason said he’d keep her distracted for me.’ He shrugged. ‘What about Ghislain?’ Yuzuru’s smile was a sweet, childish sort of mischievous as he nodded enthusiastically.  
‘Ghislain’s easy, though – Tracy only left him in charge because she knows I’m fine.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Everyone knows I can get Ghislain to turn a blind eye and let me have my own way most of the time; I’m his favourite. But I got Jun to bribe him with cake and he ate enough that he fell asleep in the doctor’s break room anyway so…problem solved.’ Shoma smirked.  
‘And Brian?’  
‘Javi said he had meetings all night. But he’s going to keep an eye out and text me to make sure.’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘So that just leaves…’  
‘The courtyard,’ Shoma nodded, smiling with hesitant pride. ‘I froze it.’ Yuzuru’s whole face lit up like Shoma had just told him something wonderful, and Shoma felt his skin growing warm as he felt the giddy joy inside them both.  
‘Then let’s go,’ Yuzuru said with a firm nod, eyes sparkling as the two of them reached up in perfect unison for a high-five that made Shoma laugh.  
‘We really need to get out more.’ Yuzuru wrinkled is nose.  
‘Isn’t that the whole point of a jailbreak?’_ _

__As they slipped out into the corridor, Yuzuru bumped his knuckles into Shoma’s, slyly lacing their fingers together and knocking into his side, sending him just slightly off course; he looked back up into Yuzuru’s face with raw, quiet happiness, knocking him in return and laughing when he tugged on his hand, spinning backwards to pull him off towards the stairs. There was a wildness in Yuzuru’s spirit that night that was exhilarating; he was breathless and uninhibited, like something inside him had been released, and Shoma could hear bells, could feel the whizz of Catherine wheels all over his skin. When they made it out into the crispness of a faintly rain-spattered night, Yuzuru tugged on Shoma’s hand once again, letting out a high hiccup of a laugh as he turned, took a moment to consider Shoma’s answering smile, then spun on his heel and took off running, dragging Shoma behind him, grinning and wind-whipped by the coldness of the air._ _

__Shoma could have done the route in his sleep, could’ve found his way there by the traces of sunlight and thunder that still lingered in the darkness of the labyrinth of corridors beneath the Foundation, but he was more than happy to let Yuzuru lead him all the same – he realised it was the first time they had ever walked this route together, without one secretly trailing in the other’s wake or stumbling by half-an-hour after each other for an unscheduled midnight study session. Something had shifted between them, Shoma realised with a nervous thrill; he had thought he was returning to something settled, something he knew the fit of, but somehow, in the distance that had stretched between them over the weekend, they had actually drawn closer to each other, had managed to change the rules of the game they were playing into something that was at once more definite and more unknown. Yuzuru squeezed Shoma’s hand like he could hear his thoughts, and Shoma looked up at him, smiling despite himself when he saw his reassuring smile. Everything with Yuzuru was the same; like muscle memory was pulling him subconsciously, like he didn’t need to try. It was overwhelming – but Shoma was starting to feel that perhaps there were some things which were overwhelming in a good way, demanding to be felt and appreciated. If that applied to anyone, it seemed fitting that it should be Yuzuru._ _

__Walking into the garden was like wandering into a dream; the butterflies rushed to greet them, eager and dancing, and the cherry trees bent their heads together, petals fluttering like shimmering coins beneath a crystal-cut sky of summer blue, everything crisp and musical, humming through Shoma’s whole body as he stepped back into its atmosphere. He realised he had watered it down in his memory, deliberately allowed it to become a murky, muddied painting – petals wet and hailstones falling – because it was one less thing to give up, one more place at the Foundation to pretend he had never been, had never wanted to be. He’d let himself forget the vivid colours – the intensity of them and the way they blurred into each other in the breeze, the way the whole place looked how Yuzuru felt, magical and impossible and easy._ _

It was a fearless, blind happiness at first, something full and without reservation that was cool and bright against his skin; Shoma followed the feeling, chased it and hung on to the echo of it he felt from Yuzuru, allowing himself, for just a moment, to feel like it didn’t matter that it was foolish and impulsive to surrender so much joy to wasted time amidst international crisis. It usually went against his instincts to not worry, to not overthink or unpick – but around Yuzuru his instincts changed, became a simpler, quieter guiding force inside him, like the remnants of Shoma’s own sunlight which he always reflected back to him somehow reminded him of the good in himself, making it easier to settle into his skin and just be. And it was almost enough to stop him hesitating as they reached the bridge – almost, but not quite. Shoma tried to hide it, but Yuzuru knew him too well – understood his sighs in ways even Shoma wasn’t sure of sometimes, because, for all that Yuzuru was used to being the one who was listened to, he was anything but the selfish, spoiled child the media liked to believe sometimes. He was perceptive. Thoughtful. And he had decided to commit Shoma to memory, to take him to heart like one of his late-night stories. 

Shoma shivered slightly and tried to swallow the faint quiver of regret that climbed up his throat, and Yuzuru stilled, turning back to look at him thoughtfully, touching a finger to his chin. ‘Sorry,’ Shoma let out, rough and whispered, and Yuzuru made a small hum of protest and sympathy, gently brushing his knuckles against the breathless rash of purpled skin at the point where his jaw squared off, running his fingers down to his neck and grazing his fingertips across Shoma’s pulse point so he let out a faint, overwhelmed noise from the back if his throat, his eyes closing and his head falling back. ‘It’s just I-’ He looked down, blowing out a steadying breath, and Yuzuru stepped closer, the whole warmth of him – of his body, of his energy, of his gentleness – coming over Shoma like a balm. ‘The last time I was here I said…I said I wanted to forget. And I said goodbye. And I didn’t mean…it wasn’t a lie, but…’ Yuzuru touched their foreheads together, fingers dancing along the curve of his ear.  
‘Shoma.’ Yuzuru had the ability to make Shoma’s name mean so many different things – and this was almost a telling off, so tender it ached but somehow firm, like a full stop to a sentence Shoma hadn’t even managed to fully form in his mind yet.  
‘I just…’ He looked up into Yuzuru’s eyes, seeing stars there. ‘I know it worked out and I know…I know I didn’t lose you. But that was almost the last time I ever saw you – that could have been the last thing I ever told you.’  
‘Shoma; you can’t think that way. You know you can always go back to a person, a place – when you have a better state of mind to choose to. Even if they’re not there any longer, you can come back to them a hundred times in your head, some part of them always yours because there was once a moment where they gave you a very important piece of them: their time. Sometimes that’s as good a reason to go away as any: for the feeling you get when you can finally return.’ Yuzuru gave a small shrug. ‘You can’t get hung up on a backwards glance at something that almost ended the wrong way.’ He leant back just a little, taking a moment to better look into Shoma’s face, his smile fond and curiously hopeful. ‘But if you want, you can restore the balance,’ he said, and Shoma frowned slightly. ‘Put back what you think you took out, if it will make you feel better: that’s how magic works, right? So…say you’ll remember me. Say you’ll remember me standing here with you and remember that it was something happy.’ He wet his lips, the pad of his thumb drawing along Shoma’s cheekbone with aching softness. ‘Say you’ll remember me, and that you’ll always let yourself feel everything that means; give it power, turn it into a spell you can always say again whenever you need it.’ Shoma looked up into Yuzuru’s face for a beat, making sure to take in the slopes and angles of it, the expressive light of those eyes and the careless way his fringe fell into his eyes – the sound of his breathing, the coolness of his fingers, the swell of thunder and gravity between their bodies. And then he gave the smallest of nods.  
‘I’ll remember you.’ He reached up onto his tiptoes to capture Yuzuru’s lips, dragging his nails lightly along his skin as he pulled him closer and smiling as Yuzuru put a hand to the small of his back to keep him up. ‘I’ll remember you always, Yuzu.’ He mumbled the words into his cheek then pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw – Yuzuru held him steady, and Shoma wrapped his arms around his neck, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and drinking in the familiar scent of bergamot and jasmine, enjoying the tickle of his hair against his face. ‘I hope I don’t have to. I hope you’ll always be more than just a story to me. But even if that doesn’t happen and remembering is my only option? I promise I’ll never let you become a ghost to me. You won’t haunt me – I will always invite you in.’ 

__Yuzuru held him for a moment – sure and kind – and Shoma melted against him, not caring if it made him seem vulnerable or flawed or fragile. Because this was Yuzuru. Yuzuru who called his mess beautiful and helped his brother with his homework, Yuzuru who let him read his notes over his shoulder and steal his food. Yuzuru who had given him faith when his life had depended on it, even though the last time they had seen each other Shoma had been turning away. Neither one of them was as unshakeable as they looked on the surface – a secret shared between the two of them, but it hadn’t done anything to change the belief that each one of them had in the other. Shoma sank back to his feet and Yuzuru let him, waiting for a beat and allowing Shoma to pull in a steadying breath before quirking an eyebrow at him and gently taking his hand.  
‘Ok?’ he asked, and Shoma smiled, nodding.  
‘Ok.’ Yuzuru smiled back at him, giving him a small nod in return before taking a step back, pulling Shoma along with him onto the bridge. Shoma’s heart stuttered a little in his chest, and Yuzuru cast him a caring glance, turning on his heel with a breezy sweetness; as they walked along he ran his free hand along the railings, brushing a layer of petals from them and tapping his fingers rhythmically to dispel them in tiny fizzes of light, and Shoma couldn’t help but laugh as he watched them disappear. Overhead the conjured sky had gentled from its giddy blue, blushes of pink tinging its edges and a watercolour sheen of translucent cloud unfurling across it, something profound and calm about the quiet way it glowed at its edges – it was dusk and summer. It was Yuzuru spelled out in dashes of light and it was beautiful; even if it had to end, Shoma saw the profound wonder in how lucky he was to have existed in that same narrow window of time, how lucky he was to have the chance to see something so rare and so magical._ _

__The two of them settled in their usual spot beneath the tallest tree, looking out towards the pond from beneath the shelter of the rustling leaves above them whilst the butterflies danced happily through the grass all around, staying closer than they usually did, as though they knew what the pastel light overhead meant just as well as Shoma did.  
‘Did you remember my laptop?’ Yuzuru asked as he flopped down onto the ground beside him, and Shoma shot him a dry look, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.  
‘No, I just stole your hoodie and ran,’ he said with a sly smile, and Yuzuru elbowed him in return. ‘How big of an idiot do you think I am?’ Yuzuru beamed, his whole face taken over by it as he shrugged at Shoma blithely.  
‘I don’t know…but I do know you’ve had your eye on that hoodie since your first week here,’ he replied. Shoma pulled a face at him, fighting a smile as he shook his head with a put upon sigh, tugging on his backpack.  
‘Here,’ he said, handing over the computer with a wrinkle of his nose. ‘What do you want it for anyway? And please tell me you didn’t just trick me into studying with you…’ Yuzuru shot him a faint glare, flicking Shoma’s temple playfully before reaching into his jacket pocket.  
‘Actually, I was going to show you this,’ he said, holding up a tiny gold memory stick for Shoma to see.  
‘O…k?’ Shoma ventured, and Yuzuru laughed, rolling his eyes slightly and turning to put the USB into his computer.  
‘It’s more impressive than it looks,’ he shrugged, flicking Shoma a glinty-eyed glance. ‘Or, I hope it is anyway – I kind of nearly died for it.’ Shoma’s forehead creased into a frown and Yuzuru shrugged, his smile somehow mischievous and sheepish at the same time. ‘Did I mention I froze the Alliance’s research office during our tour and stole their project files?’ Shoma’s eyes widened; he opened his mouth then closed it again, trying to find it in him to be annoyed but only coming up with fondness where the terror and irritation ought to be.  
‘Wait, is that why they-’ Yuzuru cut him off with a shake of his head.  
‘I don’t think they knew for sure – even if they did, I think the point was more to take me out and blame me for the fallout. But I did still have it with me when they came after me; I was so worried they were going to find it, that Brian would never get the files even after all that trouble.’  
‘How did you keep it away from them?!’ Shoma asked through an incredulous huff of laughter, and Yuzuru smiled like it was nothing.  
‘Tenacity.’ Shoma stared him down and he laughed softly. ‘Tenacity…and elbows,’ he conceded, and Shoma smirked, rolling his eyes.  
‘Of course. Your signature,’ he muttered. Yuzuru nudged against him lightly.  
‘Smart mouth.’ Shoma fought a smile.  
‘Like you have any room to talk, Hanyu.’_ _

__The two of them fitted easily back into their places, something effortless and familiar about sitting side by side in the garden’s dusky pink light with Yuzuru’s computer open in front of them and a gentle breeze in the air. Yuzuru angled the screen so Shoma could see, and Shoma pulled his knees up to his chest, watching Yuzuru’s fingers fly over the keys as he typed in his unnecessarily complicated password with a business-like sharpness. A part of Shoma wasn’t sure he wanted to know whatever it was he was about to know – wasn’t sure he wanted to relinquish the sanctity of the bubble of carefree reunion they had found for themselves – but another part of him was alert and intrigued, the same thrill and determination running through his centre that Yuzuru had, the same sense of duty and purpose and fight that just couldn’t be denied. Yuzuru flicked him a glance.  
‘Ready?’ Shoma nodded and Yuzuru nodded back, pulling the computer just a little closer and opening the files. ‘This all came from the office of their Director of Research – you might have seen him on the news before, because he shows up at summits uninvited all the time, always taking notes, especially at our shows. He once stood up at a charity event and demanded I proved I was truly able to use powers of every classification to him – he knew I could do it, he just wanted the stunt, and it got his papers on me some attention. People like him love to drag my name into things for the newspaper inches all the time. You’d know him if you saw him: he’s kind of tall, grey hair…squared off and too-close-cropped? He thinks he knows everything and it shows in his smile.’ Shoma hummed vaguely; the description sounded familiar, but he couldn’t say for sure he was thinking of the right person. ‘Honestly? I’d always suspected he had some specific theory on me – almost all his papers have been to do with my power and ideas about how there has to be some explanation in science for where that comes from – which is harmless enough, by itself. But I don’t think he wants to know why for anything good. He wouldn’t have taken the job at the Alliance if he did; he would have come here to work with Brian, where he would have easy access to me anyway.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, considering the point and flicking Yuzuru a thoughtful glance.  
‘So why didn’t he? Come here? I mean…he couldn’t even come and pretend to agree with the Foundation way just to get his research done? That doesn’t seem…smart, to me.’ Yuzuru smiled, faint and strangely sad as he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  
‘I think he didn’t want to because the Alliance were more interested in his specialist field – they were willing to give him the funding and the resources to do things Brian would never have allowed, and their long term goal was always to become more influential than the Foundation anyway.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, a slight wince briefly coming over his features. ‘I also think…I also think he chose the Alliance for another reason, though.’ Shoma raised his eyebrows and Yuzuru sighed. ‘I think it’s because I wasn’t really the one he was interested in so much by then: he knew almost all he wanted to know. I think by the time he joined the Alliance…it was because they were looking for the same thing he was: they were looking for you.’ Shoma blinked at Yuzuru for a moment, disbelieving and uncertain, but Yuzuru nodded towards the screen before he could voice any objection. ‘See for yourself if you don’t believe me.’_ _

__Shoma looked down at the laptop with a mixture of confusion and trepidation, his eyes scanning over the array of folders in front of him; Yuzuru scrolled down past ones marked with innocuous titles about “Foundation Training Data” and “Power Classification Spreads” and moved quickly through a series of different folders all containing yet more data and research notes, following an apparently never-ending corridor of bland graphs and charts and statistics until he finally came to a folder marked “HS Study”, inside which there were three more folders: one labelled with Yuzuru’s initials, one labelled with Shoma’s initials and one labelled with a set of dates which Shoma suspected matched up with the time he and Yuzuru had been at the Foundation together. Yuzuru looked up at him, gentle concern in his eyes, and Shoma gave him the smallest of nods to carry on, swallowing down the uncomfortable feeling rising up inside him and squaring his shoulders determinedly. Yuzuru studied him carefully for a beat, a small half-smile briefly twitching at his lips before he turned back to the screen and opened Shoma’s folder._ _

__There was something deeply unsettling about seeing his life play out in charts and graphs and long-lens photographs – something more unsettling still to realise just how far back the many readings and pictures went. They began with grainy zoomed-in pictures of him with the kids from his power group, shots of Shoma and a handful of others around, Shoma and Sota with their mothers at the doors, a group birthday celebration in the park; there wasn’t much focus in the early images, Shoma sometimes not in shot at all but instead one of the other children, often Sota, annotations added to the photographs’ captions detailing numbers and shorthand that Shoma didn’t entirely understand. Shoma lent in and glanced at Yuzuru.  
‘They didn’t know for sure who it was – they just knew there was more power there somehow?’ he guessed, and Yuzuru gave a small bob of his head.  
‘That’s what it seems like. The Alliance have done a lot of technological research; they have four bases across America, one is in California where they work on projects even the American government aren’t allowed to know about. They have handheld power readers which have a greater capacity than anything our department have ever been able to get a hold of – special machines for collecting all kinds of data about power use from individuals and from whole areas, even. They’ve probably been monitoring Japan for years; maybe since me, maybe before. They’ve always wanted to know how the country has such high power concentrations – so they can try to find out how to judge where other high concentrations of power might appear, I suppose. There’s about twenty folders just dedicated to their research on that in the stuff I gave Brian. But this? This is their focus. They went looking for another me, I think. And somehow…they managed to find you.’_ _

__Shoma looked back at the screen, watching the images start to become both more accurate and more invasive, the shots filtering down from the whole of the power group to just him and Sota, and then, eventually, to Shoma alone. Shoma watched himself grow up with numb fascination – watched his move up into high school and his refining of his small group of friends, watched the roundness finally disappear from his cheeks and Itsuki begin to outgrow him. There were moments he remembered and moments so ordinary there was no way of picking them out, his home routine spelled out in strange, intrusive stills: a series of himself and Sota at the beach, too many to count of him and Itsuki arguing good-naturedly at the bus stop, a whole collection of shots of Shoma which had been time-stamped to monitor some freeze his power had caused. At a restaurant with his family. Running in the park. Headphones on as he sulked about something on his way to university. Dragging his suitcases behind him on the morning he left for the Foundation. Dragging his suitcases back the other way when he finally returned. ‘My folder is the same, mostly. Although a lot of the shots are public domain already,’ Yuzuru murmured. ‘The press in Japan did most of the chasing for them, I guess. But they must have been following me too, because there’s just as many notes and readings. Power data they would have no way of getting without having been close. Once we were both here they got creative – they must have bribed staff here to take power level readings for the whole Foundation, then used the summit to make sure it was our powers together which was the difference.’ Shoma took a shaky breath, looking up into Yuzuru’s face uncertainly.  
‘But…why?’ he breathed. ‘Why would they be bothered enough to go to all this trouble – to have pictures of me, of my family?’  
‘Because they had finally found something they had been trying to prove for years – because they needed to understand exactly what they were dealing with before they could know if it could help them. I guess they couldn’t risk anyone realising just how important that discovery was to them either…least of all the Foundation, especially after both of us were associated with it.’  
‘But Yuzu what does that mean? What had they found? Even if they knew I had more power than I should – even if they suspected I was like you in any way…what use is that information to them? How does that help them do whatever it is they do?’_ _

__Yuzuru pushed the computer back, sitting up a little straighter; he looked down at his hands in his lap, his expression hushed and thoughtful and his eyebrows knitting together in a frown of concentration for a moment before he slowly looked back up at Shoma, who was digging his nails so hard into his palm it stung.  
‘Have you ever heard of Heaven’s Scales?’ Shoma blinked.  
‘Huh?’  
‘The myth, story…legend, whatever you want to call it. In Japan we call it the Crossed Stars, but…the Alliance is dominated by Americans, many Russians…countries where they tend to refer to the Western version, which is called Heaven’s Scales.’ Shoma stared at Yuzuru for a second, taking a moment to process the words and not sure he understood why they were relevant.  
‘I only know the basic story – Satoko told me,’ he said slowly. ‘But-’ He cut himself off as Yuzuru turned away from him, reaching for his backpack to pull something out of it. When he turned back to Shoma his expression was all intensity and enthusiasm – there was something about him in that moment that was unstoppable and unquestionable, that way he had when he knew he was onto something, and Shoma knew him well enough to let him run with his theory.  
‘The book I asked Kazuki to find for me? It’s by a whole group of power researchers – even some from the Foundation.’ Yuzuru set his backpack aside and turned the book over in his hands, holding it out for Shoma to read the title: “Physics, Power And The Possibility Of Heaven’s Scales”. Shoma frowned and Yuzuru put the book back down in his lap with a sigh. ‘There’s a lot of information in it, about how people should treat power the same way they treat science, stop calling it magic and focus on the basic principles and laws which govern it instead, you know? Explain it like you explain gravity or the stars – identify the rules which sustain it and attempt to find the source the same way all other fundamental laws of science are established.’ Yuzuru swallowed, a painful wince colouring his features, and Shoma nudged him gently, a show of support more than a prompt. Yuzuru’s lips twisted into a curve, a faint light coming into his eyes as he glanced up at Shoma with a self-conscious wrinkle of his nose. ‘There’s a chapter on me,’ he sighed. Shoma leant into him again, understanding, and Yuzuru shook his head slightly, giving a determined little sigh in an effort to shake the melancholy off of him. ‘It was written by the Alliance’s Director Of Research – the same guy who’s been working on these files. Heaven’s Scales? _That’s_ his true field of study. He thinks Heaven’s Scales, as a concept, could link back to me somehow – that’s the real reason he’s always been so interested in my power.’ Yuzuru looked down, running a finger over the gold lettering of the title, a pinched expression clouding his face. ‘He says that, although it’s been dressed up in legend and religion and fantasy, the basic idea behind the story of Heaven’s Scales is solid. It’s rooted in themes that are already prevalent in science: balance, counterpoints, contrast. And he says that, given what’s known about the cyclical nature of power in the first place…and the ideas in the story? If there is a me…then there has to be a…’  
‘Me,’ Shoma finished. Yuzuru smiled softly, knocking their shoulders together in a gentle sigh of a gesture, and Shoma smiled despite himself, nodding slightly. ‘Of course.’  
‘His work in this book? It got him his job with the Alliance,’ Yuzuru said quietly, his eyes turning down. ‘They had always been interested in trying to understand and use and recreate my power somehow. I know because I saw the letters my mum thought she had hidden from me, asking for tests of their own – she was tired of seeing me be treated like an experiment in power instead of a person by then, though, and she turned them away. She was only ever supportive of my power, proud of it, even…but I think sometimes she wished for the time before everyone knew, when it wasn’t our whole lives.’ Shoma leant in, kissing Yuzuru’s shoulder and resting his chin there, and Yuzuru smiled slightly, reaching across and gratefully taking his hand in his own. ‘The point is that, what this guy was arguing? Was that, if you took the laws of power and treated them like chemistry or physics, like any other calculation in science…then Heaven’s Scales was almost the only explanation for how there could even be a me: if I was one half of some greater equation.’  
‘An equation capable of keeping power everywhere in balance – stabilising it beyond interference by making sure there were two halves of something that you could put together to counteract whatever forces work against power,’ Shoma whispered, lifting his head to look into Yuzuru’s eyes.  
‘Exactly,’ Yuzuru smiled quietly. ‘The way he sees it…Heaven’s Scales isn’t just proof of power being governed by balance and physics, it’s proof that power has some sort of built in failsafe. A by-product of power that isn’t only governed by those same laws of equals and opposites, but which also supersedes them – becomes the thing that keeps the whole cycle of power balanced out even when it’s placed under strain.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly.  
‘But…why would the Alliance be interested in proving a legend or the science behind it – how does it help them? And what does that have to do with the Grey Zones?’_ _

__Yuzuru sighed, and Shoma felt a sudden flicker of tiredness in him – a strange, hollow sadness that ran deep, a fragment of despair and distrust in the world that went against everything Yuzuru always fought to believe in but that was a giveaway to the reality that, stubborn as he was, he was only human. Shoma squeezed his hand and Yuzuru offered him a damp, pink smile, leaning into him gratefully.  
‘Maybe in the beginning their intentions were genuine – but there is always a danger when you give a group of people in suits the means to control so much money and so many people, I think. They get ideas about their own importance. They start to enjoy the feeling of authority a little too much, perhaps, and use it in ways that weren’t originally intended. Until eventually the aims change; making money out of simply creating jobs for people with power isn’t enough, they want more money, more powers, more control and more influence…and then, in time, they realise how dangerous it is that there are people out there whose ideas don’t align with their own, whose power is being used in other ways, ways which maybe undermine their authority. The Alliance want what so many want: control, over power and people, over governments and money. I think they wish for a world where power is manipulated to make their lives something untouchable, something grand – where all magic belongs to them and no one else, because they are the only ones left with any access to it. I mean…think about it: you create enough Grey Zones, you become the only ones with any space in which to use magic, after all. And you employ enough people in those Grey Zones who have no magic left at all to hold on to, who have no demands or ideas about how they should be treated or paid…then you can do what you like with them and collect the profits. Eventually you will have enough money and influence that every government the world over will let you do as you please.’ Shoma rested his head back against Yuzuru’s shoulder, looking back at the computer screen with a troubled frown.  
‘But if power has an inbuilt way of protecting itself, then they can’t do that – power will fix itself, like in the story.’ Yuzuru nodded, resting his head on top of Shoma’s with a sigh.  
‘They have a vested interest in so many ways, Shoma: find and understand the failsafe and you can get around it somehow, destroy one half of it and it no longer exists…take one half of it and bring it over to your side, maybe you could invert the whole process, make the failsafe somehow work in their favour – instead of balancing out the light, maybe it would come to balance out the shadow, who knows. They don’t really care about the damage they cause to hope, to dreams, to real magic – as long as they can find a way to get powers under their control, can find a way to bend them to work for them? That’s all that matters. That’s what’ll get them what they want, and the rest of the world can suffer the consequences.’_ _

__Shoma lifted his head, looking up into Yuzuru’s face with dark, solemn eyes and taking in the childlike softness that had come over it, the vulnerable way his lips were parted; he was looking down, his breathing slow and tight as he tried to blink away a faint gloss of tears from his eyes. The air in the garden had turned cool and incredibly still, everything so quiet Shoma could hear the occasional soft splashes of a bird bathing at the edges of the pond, but the light overhead was still dusted in pastels, no trace of storm clouds across the conjured sky. Shoma watched for a moment as the light caught in Yuzuru’s glassy eyes, taking in the faint glitter of vulnerability there, the strange peace in the way Yuzuru let the tears collect at the corners of his eyes, breathing through them, honest and somehow determined. His hair had fallen forwards in a swoop of paint-stroke black, shadowing his face from Shoma ever so slightly, and Shoma reached up to push it back, tender and reverent, shifting himself up onto his knees and letting his fingers run through the feather of Yuzuru’s fringe for a moment before drawing his hand back and leaning in to kiss the side of his face. Yuzuru closed his eyes, shivering gratefully into the touch and letting out a soft, honest sigh, and Shoma pulled back, running his finger absently across Yuzuru’s cheekbone, his eyes roaming his face and finding all the shadows that he had kept hidden until they were finally, truly alone, protected by the garden’s magic and the secrecy of midnight.  
‘You know, don’t you,’ Shoma said quietly, and Yuzuru looked up into his face. ‘You know how they’re creating the Grey Zones. You saw it happen.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, and Shoma brought his hand to them, dragging his thumb across the still-slightly-chapped skin. ‘Which means you sensed it…felt it.’ Yuzuru sniffed, giving the smallest of nods and blowing out a shaky breath; Shoma reached out and took his hand, and he smiled slightly as he felt the way it steadied him. ‘You feel everything. And pretend you don’t because you’ve been told so many times you’re not allowed.’ Shoma gave Yuzuru’s hand a squeeze, meeting his eyes intently, his expression earnest and fierce at the same time. ‘But you’re allowed with me,’ he whispered. ‘I’m not going to stop believing in you because you’re human. It’s just mud under your nails to me – it doesn’t change who you are, who you are is greater than whatever pain you’ve felt along the way. You’re still breathing, aren’t you? To me, I think that’s more than enough reason to have faith. To believe you’re strong…even when you’re in pain. Especially then, maybe.’ The tiniest of smiles ghosted across Yuzuru’s face, and he squeezed Shoma’s hand, leaning their foreheads together and letting out a wet sigh.  
‘Thank you.’ He brought his hand up to Shoma’s cheek, cool fingers brushing smoothly along it. ‘Faith is a gift from whoever gives it, I suppose…but I know that your faith is something special. Rarely handed out and recklessly total.’ He lifted his head to kiss Shoma’s temple then rested their foreheads together once again. ‘I don’t take it for granted. That I am lucky to know someone so rare and so precious as Shoma – honest and humble, strong and heartfelt. Resolute and maddening and stubborn.’ He let out a hum of a laugh then, fingertips suddenly dancing along Shoma’s jawline impishly, even as he blinked back fresh tears. ‘Javi told me about you and the minister, you know.’ Shoma laughed self-consciously, glancing down, and Yuzuru put a finger to his chin, gently forcing his eyes back up to him. ‘Do you want to know a secret, Shoma?’ Shoma nodded cautiously, and Yuzuru’s lips twisted to one side, mischief and warmth and a bubble of delight restoring all the colour back to his face. ‘I wouldn’t have held it together like that. Not if it was you.’ Shoma let out a small, huffy sound, his forehead creasing into a faint frown as he pulled back to look into Yuzuru’s face.  
‘Yes you would – you’d probably have mounted a way better defence than I did.’ Yuzuru smiled quietly, shaking his head.  
‘No.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ve had words with a minister before now, but…if it was you…I don’t think I could have been calm enough to make the cuts land right. I would’ve made it worse by losing control and probably ended up doing something stupid, taking things into my own hands instead of sucking it up and doing things on the ministry’s time.’ Shoma pursed his lips, looking down with a slight wrinkle of his nose.  
‘Yeah, well…’ He sighed, eyes slowly turning back to regard Yuzuru thoughtfully. ‘I wouldn’t have held it together if I had to do what you did – I’d have shut down and muted everything out…and that would’ve stopped my power. I can think on my feet, but…not like that. Not when there’s static in my ears. I wouldn’t have thought to reach you.’ Yuzuru hummed, noncommittal and fond as he kissed Shoma’s forehead.  
‘Maybe we should call it a draw then, huh?’ he suggested with a quirk of a smile, and Shoma let out a damp laugh. ‘There’s no right way to handle things, I suppose; we both would face things head on, in our own ways, even if the path wasn’t easy…we both know the magic lies in the effort made and the intention it was made with, and that’s true regardless of the outcome.’_ _

__Yuzuru’s eyes drifted down again, fixing on a point somewhere just behind Shoma and growing unfocused as he began to worry at his bottom lip, pressing at the one sore spot until it turned a raw, angry shade of pink. Shoma reached up and dragged his fingers along Yuzuru’s lips before letting them come to a rest over the mark and pressing down, gentle but insistent and with just a dash of healing power that lit Yuzuru’s skin in golden hues. ‘It was really close, Shoma,’ Yuzuru let out in a cracked whisper. ‘I could feel everything starting to fold in on itself – the ground we were standing on, even their powers…everything was folding in…and I nearly would’ve folded in too, I think. I think I nearly did. Because the air was too thin – there wasn’t enough magic to sustain _anything_.’ Yuzuru closed his eyes, swallowing hard and turning away, and Shoma chased his lips on instinct, catching the far corner of his them in a quick, clumsy kiss.  
‘You don’t have to tell me, Yuzu – I don’t need to know. What you’ve said already is enough as long as you’re ok.’ Yuzuru looked back at him with a fracture of a smile.  
‘No. I want to tell you.’ He kissed Shoma back, sweet and soft, and when he pulled away he kept his eyes closed, leaning against Shoma gratefully. ‘You’re the first person I wanted to tell. You’re always the first person I want to tell everything to. Even stupid things – I want to tell you this the same way I want to tell you when my favourite song comes on the radio, the same way I want to see if you would laugh at the same joke I heard today. I want to tell you like I want to tell you about my sister and my first night at the Foundation…the time I skinned my knee at school and nearly screamed the place down.’ His lips curved into another tiny smile. ‘It’s like you said before, right? This isn’t unconditional – this is everything in exchange for everything. Unconditional is sweet, it works for some people, maybe. But you and me…weren’t built that way, I don’t think. We like to earn what we get – we like to know there was work in something. Because, to us, that is where the value lies.’ He shrugged. ‘So you have to get everything, even the broken pieces. Maybe those especially.’ Shoma nodded slowly, carefully shifting and sinking down from his knees.  
‘Ok,’ he said softly, taking Yuzuru’s hand again and twisting around, turning himself under it and lying down. He put his head in Yuzuru’s lap slowly, looking up at him with a soft smile as Yuzuru gazed at him in hushed wonder, eyes wide and lips parted. ‘So tell me,’ Shoma murmured, and Yuzuru smiled, giving Shoma a small nod and squeezing his hand.  
‘Ok.’_ _

__Yuzuru took a deep breath, looking up at the sky for a moment and giving his shoulders a small shake, his lightning briefly falling off him in spirals as he did, sending goosebumps along Shoma’s skin. ‘I guess you know the first part – when they came to the hotel for me. They waited until the shift change for Foundation’s security…and somehow they must have known Brian was supposed to come and see me. They just knocked on the door and grabbed me before I even understood what was happening. I grazed my cheek on the doorframe. I bruised my knee on the wall. I think they took me down the fire escape, but everything was a blur. I didn’t know for sure what they wanted, what would happen – but I knew my only chance was you.’  
‘So you left the phone.’ Yuzuru nodded.  
‘I knew whatever happened, as long as Brian found you? You would know what to do. Your power always knows what to do.’  
‘Especially when it comes to you,’ Shoma murmured. Yuzuru smiled slightly, nodding and tracing his finger along the curve of Shoma’s cheek.  
‘Yeah. Apparently.’ Shoma smiled back at him, glancing down with small, happy shiver, and Yuzuru sighed, his eyes drifting down to their joined hands where they rested against Shoma’s stomach. ‘I was gone for a while – I hit my head, I think, because the next thing I knew I was at this building, right on the edge of their head offices…and they were trying to take my power from me.’ Yuzuru looked back into Shoma’s eyes. ‘They had people with power trying to take my power from me – using their power.’ Shoma’s breath stuttered slightly and Yuzuru swallowed, looking away. ‘I could sense in them…this hollowness. Like the edge of a Grey Zone, almost. The Alliance must have been manipulating them for so long, Sho – taking them into Grey Zones, I think…or exposing them to the feeling of one, recreating it…I know they have the technology.’  
‘But why?’ Shoma frowned, and Yuzuru lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  
‘Because it weakens spirit – give the right dose and you might just about be able to take the memories out of someone but leave some form of their power behind. Their powers were different to any other I’ve ever known – changed, like all the personality had been taken out.’ Yuzuru shuddered, closing his eyes for a beat. ‘They felt so cold and it got inside me too. I pushed back but it made me dizzy.’  
‘I know,’ Shoma murmured, and when Yuzuru looked at him curiously, he offered a twitch of a smile. ‘I felt it. I just…I thought I was getting sick.’ Yuzuru laughed softly, nodding.  
‘Ok.’ He sighed. ‘What I told you when you found me – they’re trying to take out more than they put in? That’s what’s at the core of it. They’re mining magic from anything they can find. And they were using power to try and take more power; but magic can’t be sustained that way…not even the most ordinary kinds of magic…’  
‘Kinds of magic like colours,’ Shoma breathed, understanding, and Yuzuru gave another nod, looking down again.  
‘It took so much power to try and take mine – if I hadn’t have been able to sense your sunlight, Sho, I don’t-’ Yuzuru swallowed and closed his eyes, and Shoma gave his hand a small squeeze. ‘It was enough to offset the balance; like a back-up power supply, I guess. But it’s like they couldn’t help it. I saw the darkness come up their arms like ink…like they weren’t just becoming shadows but something deeper, you know?’  
‘Like a piece of the universe that ripped?’ Shoma asked. Yuzuru nodded.  
‘I saw them turn into Snatchers…felt them try to drag me inside that absence with them, like they were trying to bend my power into doing the same as theirs. They were trying to absorb everything, trying to fill themselves back in but…it was impossible, because it was all just take. The world was caving in.’  
‘They turn their people into Snatchers and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy?’ Shoma ventured. Yuzuru nodded again.  
‘They leech the power from their own skin by misusing power in the first place – when there is nothing left inside them but the urge to correct it, when they are nothing but a shell of loss? It becomes a power all its own. One with no boundaries…one that can only take until all that’s left for it to pull in is the dreams and the hope and…eventually? The colours.’ Yuzuru looked at Shoma then, smiling quietly. ‘Because of you? There was too much light in me – there was no way they could put up enough power to take it. It offset the balance. It gave me just enough room to start setting fires. And that gave me enough time to get away.’_ _

__There was a pause between them – heavy and aching – and Shoma closed his eyes against it, taking a moment to absorb the impact of realisation at just how close it had come. Yuzuru let out a sigh, lifting their joined hands and pressing a kiss to Shoma’s power mark. That was the moment it struck Shoma; the words Yuzuru had used, his description of the darkness. It was familiar to him – that haunting, scratching absence inside. He sat up suddenly, and Yuzuru blinked in surprise.  
‘Yuzu…the people, the darkness in them…how did it spread?’ Yuzuru tilted his head slightly, evidently confused but willing to humour Shoma’s sudden urgency all the same, trusting that it must have some purpose.  
‘Over their skin. Like pools of ink bleeding into everything – galaxies of shadow that just got more intense until their outlines practically disappeared. It felt like ice to touch it; I could hear the rattle and screech of it in my skull every time.’ Shoma felt his stomach turn over, his throat turning dry.  
‘Sota,’ he breathed, and Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him, edging a little closer in concern and touching a finger to his chin to make him meet his gaze.  
‘Sota…your friend who got sick and had to move away?’ Yuzuru asked carefully, and Shoma nodded faintly.  
‘Only that wasn’t the whole story – he-’ He swallowed and Yuzuru began to trace his fingers along the lines of his power mark in steady, deliberate circles, the action sending a chase of lightning along Shoma’s skin, calming him instantly. ‘I never knew before…but he told me that…he told me it started after he met with the Alliance.’ Shoma winced. ‘They were looking for me: they made up some story about a trial with them and my mum wouldn’t touch it for anything…but Sota’s mum didn’t see the harm. So they tested him – and realised who they wanted was me.’ Yuzuru’s fingers pressed just a little harder at his wrist and Shoma looked at him sadly. ‘It’s because of me that he-’  
‘Shoma,’ Yuzuru sighed. ‘You’re not responsible for the actions of others – you could never have known.’ Shoma nodded, unconvinced, and he looked away. Yuzuru’s fingers began to move at his wrist once again. ‘Shoma, I know you take things to heart – but not this, please not this,’ he whispered. ‘It was out of your hands – and if you had had any idea? We both know you would have done everything to stop it.’ Shoma let out a small sigh, still avoiding Yuzuru’s eyes.  
‘Maybe.’  
‘Definitely,’ Yuzuru corrected firmly. Shoma gave a vague bob of his head, and Yuzuru let out a dissatisfied sigh, reluctantly letting the point lie. ‘So…what happened? This trial is what made him sick?’ Shoma shrugged.  
‘Doctors never figured it out for sure. It was like I said when I first told you about him – he’d get dizzy, he’d fall…his powers didn’t work the way they should any more and no one could work out which part of it came first. But that wasn’t the only thing. He never showed me before but…his power mark…’ Shoma looked up. ‘It turned black, Yuzu. Bleeding into the lines like ink, fading it silver and grey and filling it in with nothing but absence. And when I touched it-’ Yuzuru’s eyes widened just a little.  
‘Ice and rattle and screech?’ Shoma nodded.  
‘Endless static and white noise – dry enough it was hard to breathe.’_ _

__Yuzuru pursed his lips, glancing down thoughtfully; Shoma could practically see the cogs in his mind starting to get to work.  
‘They must have made him misuse his power somehow – as part of some test to see if he was the one they were looking for?’ Shoma flinched and Yuzuru squeezed his arm, letting out a kind, sympathetic sign. ‘Whatever they did, Shoma, we can figure it out.’ Shoma bit his lip, avoiding Yuzuru’s eyes, and Yuzuru sighed, dipping his head to look at him. ‘There is still enough light in the world to balance out the dark, ok? Believe me, Sho: I’ve stood where your friend stood. And I made it out in one piece.’  
‘Two people I care about, two people who were both only there because of me.’  
‘Shoma.’ Yuzuru squeezed his arm again, no-nonsense and fierce. ‘You weren’t the reason – both times it was because of events beyond what you could ever have controlled.’ He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Do you trust me, Shoma?’ Shoma’s brow furrowed.  
‘Of course.’ Yuzuru’s lips curled at one corner.  
‘Then you have to believe me: you weren’t the reason for what happened, but you will be the reason it is put right. I know because…you were for me.’ Shoma smiled reluctantly, looking down with a small, overwhelmed huff of laughter. ‘We will fix it. Together. I promise I will help you put it right.’_ _

__A frown briefly crossed Yuzuru’s face again, and he tipped his head in thought. ‘I suppose when the Alliance’s researchers saw the damage they did to him take hold so quickly, it was an answer in itself about whether or not he was who they wanted…and since they couldn’t risk a missing child drawing attention, they pulled back before the darkness took full hold.’ He pursed his lips, looking up at Shoma once more. ‘It’s fortunate, but…perhaps an oversight on their part. I suppose they must have hoped the Foundation would never look into his case.’ His expression cleared then, suddenly transforming into something full of curiosity and light. ‘What’s his power mark?’  
‘A butterfly. Why?’  
‘Because maybe there is another clue in that – butterflies are linked to transformation, that’s why so many Artists have the mark, people think…since that’s one of their powers. But maybe it goes deeper with your friend, maybe it is more about him being someone strong enough to withstand the pressure of transforming himself into the darkness and out of it again, to be able to fix what was broken.’ Shoma frowned.  
‘I don’t understand.’ Yuzuru shrugged.  
‘If we could use our powers somehow to help your friend, help him turn himself back into an Artist with full powers, with a power mark which held no darkness any longer…wouldn’t that just be a smaller version of being able to transform the world? We find a way to give back what magic was taken from him and scale it up…’ Shoma’s eyes widened.  
‘You mean bring him here?’ Yuzuru nodded, and Shoma couldn’t help the brightness of his smile. ‘He always wanted that.’ He glanced down, wrinkling his nose slightly. ‘Me? I wasn’t bothered. But him…’ Yuzuru took Shoma’s hand and squeezed it tightly.  
‘You didn’t take this from him, Shoma. You needed to come here, right? Otherwise you might never have known what you do now – and that would be no use to him at all.’ He dipped his head, forcing Shoma to meet his gaze. ‘Does Sota hope?’ Shoma’s forehead creased slightly.  
‘Huh?’  
‘Is he someone who hopes for things – who believes there is magic in him which isn’t dependent on his power?’ Shoma’s expression cleared slightly, and he gave a small nod. Yuzuru nodded back. ‘Then he will understand, Shoma. If he understands there is more magic at his fingertips than simply what he once had in his power, then he’ll understand that there is a far greater magic in overcoming and restoration than there ever is in anything simply handed over. If there is a way of giving him his power back, undoing the damage…then maybe we can find some way of fixing the Grey Zones. The good in that should outweigh the bad of what he’s had to endure, right?’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘A counterbalance; a point of light only our two powers could create. Just like the legend after all.’_ _

__Shoma looked down at that, huffing out a breath and sucking at his bottom lip; he felt unsettled by the Alliance’s theory, not simply by how long they had known about him, but also by how they seemed to have been bending every piece of him to fit some story that wasn’t his own, something so far beyond everything he thought was real and sure. Yuzuru watched him thoughtfully, touching a gentle finger to his jawline; some of the tension had gone from his body, a heaviness returning to his gaze and a lower rumble creeping into his thunder. Exhausted but at peace with it. It made Shoma realise how much he didn’t want Yuzuru to be part of some other story either – some legend set out before either of them was even born. It was too much like the outside world trying to take him away from him again, trying to remove him from the reality Shoma had grounded him in his head.  
‘There’s no proof, you know,’ Shoma said, raspy and low. He looked up at Yuzuru slowly, and Yuzuru frowned, a gentle, curious thing that made Shoma feel a little steadier. ‘Just because the Alliance believe something…it doesn’t mean we have to, it doesn’t make it true. If anything it should make us more sceptical, shouldn’t it?’ Yuzuru made a small, soft little sound in the back of his throat; an objection and an acceptance at the same time somehow, his expression clouded but still profoundly understanding as he studied Shoma’s face.  
‘You know, Shoma…I’m not saying I think we’re truly two fallen stars, or constellations set down by some distant god’s hand. I’m as flawed and muddied as anyone else, and there is earth and bruise in you too; we’re flesh and blood and mistakes like every other human, we have families and doubts and lives. Hope. Laughter. Stories. Things no legend could possibly know about, decisions we have made which no author’s hand had any say in.’ He shrugged. ‘But that isn’t to say the people who told these myths weren’t seeing something in the world which they were right to want to study – patterns and sciences we simply haven’t taken the time to consider closely enough because they were dressed up in a fairytale.’ Shoma swallowed, nodding slowly.  
‘Strip away the stars and the scales and it’s just science,’ he sighed. ‘Equal and opposite. Action and reaction. A sum which has no choice but to add up. The Alliance set something off in what they started, so magic had no other option but to create…us.’ Yuzuru smiled gently, squeezing Shoma’s hand.  
‘The Alliance aren’t the only ones to think there’s something solid inside the idea, you know. There are people across the world who study these myths, trying to apply the principles to our understanding of power and turn it into a science. Many of these researchers have disappeared or stopped their work, scared off by the Alliance or simply employed by them. But some remain; Germany, Russia, Canada. There are several across South East Asia; Singapore has a high concentration, and the leading researcher works out of Indonesia now, I think. Her work is amazing – I read some of her papers a long time ago, taking apart all the themes that seem so rooted in fantasy and applying them to real science one by one.’ Yuzuru paused, wetting his lips and looking down. ‘It’s kind of like a natural insurance policy, you know; the elements could be unstable individually, could be misused or broken…but then there is the other one, tipping the scales the other way. It’s why the stars were from different corners of the sky – the same distance from the Earth but both seeing it in opposite ways. It’s why there was a heart and a compass and not two hearts – two things which guide but in such different ways, raw feeling versus concentrated direction.’  
‘But it’s all still interpretation – it doesn’t mean it has to have anything to do with me. You’re the one with the control over your power, the actual talent; maybe you’re a legend, but…me? Equals and opposites and dumb metaphors from before people had Google to tell them it’s just physics…it isn’t enough to prove there’s not ten more of me somewhere, people with power that’s just messy, too uncontrollable to be given a category.’  
‘Sho – you know that’s not what you are. Raw, maybe. Boundless and total and full of sunlight. But you can control your power.’ Yuzuru smiled almost shyly then, leaning in and touching a hand to Shoma’s cheek. ‘Or at least…you always seem to control it just fine around me.’_ _

__Shoma smiled faintly, looking down with a breathy puff of laughter and closing his eyes; he drank in the anchor of Yuzuru’s presence, let himself feel the powder-light mist of bergamot and memories and thunder overwhelm his senses. Just for a second none of the rest of it even mattered, because Yuzuru was there with him – Shoma wished it was always that simple. ‘Shoma, when did you get your power?’ Shoma opened his eyes and pulled back slowly, looking into Yuzuru’s face with faint confusion.  
‘I don’t remember…I was too young to even notice.’ Yuzuru’s smile was edged with lightning and Shoma’s frown only deepened. ‘My mum says she first saw me use it not long after my first birthday – I healed a cut on her hand she didn’t even realise she had, and it turned into gold lines all over her hand that took a week to go away.’ He shrugged uncomfortably, raising his eyebrows slightly. ‘Why does it matter?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, trying to keep his smile quiet but unable to hide the glimmer from his eyes.  
‘Because I didn’t get all my powers – beyond healing – until that day in the park, Shoma. When I was four and conjured the petal storm. When I was four…and it couldn’t have been long after your first birthday, right?’ He met Shoma’s eyes with fierce brightness, his drums getting louder in Shoma’s ears, and Shoma couldn’t help but shiver against the lightning he felt zigzagging down his spine. ‘You think that’s coincidence? You think there’s ten more yous who all happened to get their full powers the same time as me?’ Yuzuru let out a small, overwhelmed laugh. ‘There had to be a you before there could be a me, Shoma – a counterpoint, a balancing weight. Something different but still the same.’_ _

__Shoma swallowed, taking in a shaky, uncertain breath and looking away; tears were prickling the backs of his eyes, and he pulled his hand away from Yuzuru’s with more force than was necessary, curling it back against himself with a wounded frown.  
‘So, what? It’s all just fate? We’re only here because the universe told us to be?’ Yuzuru softened, sighing sweetly and reaching up to Shoma’s face, his knuckles grazing his jawline and then his cheek before he slowly, carefully touched two fingers to Shoma’s forehead, humming lightly as he pressed just hard enough to smooth out the scowl that had settled there. There was no healing in it this time, but there was lightning – just enough to make Shoma’s sunlight bloom inside his chest, warm and full and calming. ‘Yuzu,’ Shoma protested weakly, shaking his head again and turning his face away, but Yuzuru chased him, taking his chin in his hand and leaning their foreheads together.  
‘Please don’t be so stubborn you stand in your own way, huh? Don’t object to something so fiercely you can’t see it clearly any longer.’ He kissed the bridge of Shoma’s nose, the corner of his lips, then settled back so they were leaning together once more. ‘You know, I don’t really believe in destiny. In fate. I’m like you: I don’t want to think my journey can be taken out of my hands – that no matter what I do, the outcome would still be the same. Where is the achievement in that? I want to know I chose something, worked for it, made it my own. And powers are no different, I don’t think. Classifications make it seem like there’s only one thing a power can be, but you and me…we know better, right? Not just because our powers go beyond those boundaries, but…because we can sense the ways other people’s powers sometimes cross those lines too.’ Shoma gave a small nod and Yuzuru smiled. ‘So maybe it’s true our powers can’t exist without each other, but…that’s just power. The size and shape, the outline. But the colour in between those lines? That is something human…and unpredictable. The human I am chose you, not the power in me. I would like to think you would say the same too, hopefully.’ Shoma let out a small, overwhelmed sound – almost a laugh but not quite, a smile touching his lips that made Yuzuru’s own smile widen as he reached up to press his thumb tenderly to the corner of Shoma’s mouth. ‘Our powers do more than what any research paper knows, and they work in ways no myth has ever been able to piece together – because we found each other as people first, and who we are to each other as people changed who we are to each other as powers. We are more than numbers and sums, Shoma. Even if there is some greater science at play? It’s never going to be the reason I spend time with you. The reason I kiss you. The reason I tell you my stories.’ Shoma looked down, taking in a deep breath before reaching out to wrap his arms around Yuzuru’s neck, drawing their bodies together in a tight, fierce hug, and Yuzuru wrapped his bony arms around him in return, turning his face against Shoma’s neck, his breath tickling the skin there.  
‘It’s not the reason for me either,’ Shoma mumbled, squeezing his eyes closed and taking in the sturdiness of Yuzuru’s muscle against him, the fragility of his frame contrasted by the firm press of strength beneath his skin. ‘I told you when I met you: you’re a person to me, not a headline. I meant it. I still do.’_ _

__Shoma pulled back, but only enough to rest their foreheads together once more, his grip on Yuzuru still fierce-tight and steady; in return Yuzuru’s hands found his waist, pressing hard enough to send a low ache through Shoma’s skin, and Yuzuru smiled knowingly when Shoma shivered. They were both staring at each other from under mussed fringes, breathing slow and lost in the wonder of contact; to be so wrapped up in each other, to be so constantly aware of energy and power beneath their skin, was sometimes more disconnecting somehow, detaching them from skin and bone and breath and putting a strange, abstract distance between them. But this was something solid – something that could be tasted and breathed in, something that affected every sense and not just their powers. Something purely human. Shoma could feel the way the muscles in Yuzuru’s back moved as he pulled him closer, the shift of skin over bone as he breathed in – he could smell bergamot and jasmine and, if he just closed the gap between them, he would be able to taste marshmallow, the slight sting of sore, chapped skin. Yuzuru’s lips twitched at the far corner, a glitter of something in his eyes like he knew, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, leaning into him a little more. Yuzuru took the invitation without hesitation, dipping to capture Shoma’s lips in a kiss, the soft, wet pop of lip balm sticking to cracking skin making his smile widen slightly as he drew back; Yuzuru had brought a hand up to Shoma’s neck, slender fingers dragging along the line of it as his other hand grabbed the edge of the jacket, curling into a determined fist. He moved in for another kiss, and Shoma’s eyes fluttered closed immediately, even as he felt the mischievous dance that came to life in Yuzuru’s lightning. He pushed against Shoma determinedly, dragging his nails at the nape of his neck, suddenly all force and insistence as he began to tug him backwards, shifting his weight until eventually they both fell back against the grass. ‘Uff.’ Shoma groaned slightly as his body thudded dully against Yuzuru’s. ‘Ow.’ He pushed himself up a little as Yuzuru laughed, high and happy and carefree again, the wildness back in him and something sunny at his edges, the clouds lifting from him entirely now his story was told. ‘You’re such a pain,’ Shoma groaned, and Yuzuru caught his bottom lip between his teeth, widening his eyes in a show of chagrin that Shoma let out a low whimper at, rolling his eyes and collapsing back in surrender. ‘I have no idea what I see in you.’ Yuzuru laughed again, bringing a hand to Shoma’s face and wriggling just enough to get his leverage back, guiding Shoma’s body up until their faces were level.  
‘Need me to remind you?’ he asked, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him slightly, his skin growing annoyingly hot as Yuzuru’s smile turned sly, his gaze intense and his fingers drifting ticklishly along the curve of his ear. Shoma shivered and Yuzuru’s eyes were so dark all Shoma could make out was black, the faint catch of the light looking like stars as he met Shoma’s gaze. He managed to find Shoma’s hand somehow, threading their fingers together before stretching up to finally meet Shoma’s lips in a kiss, and Shoma melted against him gladly, letting his eyes flutter closed as Yuzuru’s free hand cupped his face, drawing them impossibly closer._ _

__When Shoma woke up the next day, it took him a couple of seconds to realise that he had never made it back to his room; he and Yuzuru were still lying beneath the tallest tree, Yuzuru using his jacket as a pillow and Shoma mostly resting against Yuzuru. He wasn’t sure what time it was, and the garden’s sky was no help, pooling, as it was, into a profound midnight blue, a glitter of stars running across it like a river and a heavy, quiet moon peering out from behind the faintest whisper of purpling cloud. Shoma blinked and lifted his head, taking a moment to try and work out what had woken him; everything was still and peaceful, the only sound the occasional murmur of the breeze in the trees, and Shoma was comfortable being pillowed against the easy rise and fall of Yuzuru’s back as he breathed deeply. He stifled a yawn, letting his heavy eyelids droop closed as he dropped his head against Yuzuru’s shoulder blade once more, smiling just a little at the soft moan of protest Yuzuru let out in his sleep, a slurred “Sho” escaping his lips as he shifted, pulling his jacket a little closer to him, squashing up his face with a weak sigh. Shoma was just on the edge of falling asleep again when he finally heard it: the chiming of a phone._ _

__‘Go away,’ Shoma grumbled into Yuzuru’s back, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone and squinting at it in confusion as he realised it wasn’t the source of the noise. ‘Urgh.’ He shoved his phone back and groaned, giving Yuzuru a small thump with his fist. ‘Yuzu get your phone, I’m tired.’ Yuzuru huffed groggily but didn’t move, and Shoma jabbed him with his elbow. ‘Thunder Boy, wake up already.’ Yuzuru whined, lifting his head and looking back at Shoma with a frown until the sound of his phone chiming again distracted him, and he grumbled softly, untangling his jacket and finally extracting his phone with a childish pout. Shoma sighed contentedly, closing his eyes again and curling in. ‘Finally.’ Yuzuru elbowed him in the stomach and Shoma smirked, wriggling away and settling a little lower on his back.  
‘It’s Javi,’ Yuzuru said through a yawn. Shoma made a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat, keeping his eyes closed, and Yuzuru sighed. ‘Brian’s looking for me. And I need to get back to the hospital before the morning meeting’s over, otherwise Tracy will find I’m gone…and I don’t want to get Jun and Ghislain into trouble.’ Shoma whined in protest, and Yuzuru laughed softly, turning over and dislodging Shoma gracelessly. ‘Come on, Sleepy – we need to go.’  
‘I got so much more peace before I met you,’ Shoma muttered, rolling onto his back and trying to unstick his eyes; he looked up at Yuzuru through his eyelashes, was just about able to make out the blur of his smile in the garden’s morning moonlight. ‘You ruined my life, Hanyu.’ Yuzuru laughed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his cheek.  
‘Well get over it: you’re stuck with me now.’_ _

__Outside, the courtyard was filled with brilliant sunlight, and Shoma winced against the brightness of it as the two of them slipped out from the shadows beyond the gate; Yuzuru took his hand almost instinctively, pulling him to his side forcefully enough for their shoulders to bump, his conspiratorial smile dazzling and sweet as he glanced Shoma’s way. Shoma’s own smile was bashful, and he lowered his gaze quickly, bumping Yuzuru’s shoulder back with a small laugh and licking his lips.  
‘You’re so loud,’ he muttered, and Yuzuru simply laughed, spinning on his heel and pulling Shoma after him. Shoma rolled his eyes. ‘Ridiculous.’ Yuzuru seemed so ludicrously pleased Shoma had to smile, letting himself be dragged back against his side without complaint._ _

__It had rained overnight, and everything was covered in a sheen of raindrops, delicate like dew across every surface; the light glittered around the space in a mist of milky gold, and everything sounded soft and damp, the edge taken off the world by the patter of the water sliding down from one leaf to the next. It was almost peaceful, until, from across the courtyard, Shoma heard the sound of his and Yuzuru’s names being hollered enthusiastically. Shoma tensed, turning his head: there, letting out a chorus of childish whistles and whoops, were Team Japan. He instantly came to a halt, tipping his head back and letting out a long groan; of course today would be the first time Team Japan ever made it to the morning meeting early. Yuzuru cast him a resigned yet amused smile, tugging his hand and forcing him to move.  
‘Come on – they mean well,’ he joked as Shoma reluctantly let himself be dragged towards them._ _

__‘Ah – public hand-holding and sneaking out of the shadows first thing in the morning…do my eyes deceive me?!’ Nobu yelled, and Keiji gave him a warning shove, trying to suppress a smirk as he caught Satoko’s eye.  
‘Does this mean we can all stop pretending to be blind now?’ Kaori asked no one in particular, and Mai and Marin collapsed giggling into her shoulders. Keiji leant in towards Satoko with a sly smile.  
‘I don’t think Kazuki was pretending, actually,’ he remarked lightly, and Satoko pursed her lips, eyes glinting with amusement.  
‘That makes a total of one person they had fooled then,’ she replied, looking over at Shoma knowingly. Shoma attempted to shoot them both a glare, but they smiled back at him with a wicked kind of warmth that Shoma couldn’t quite deny, and he rolled his eyes, hoping neither one of them caught his blush.  
‘Yuzuru Hanyu! Have you been out all night with my Shoma?!’ one voice hollered louder than all the others, and Shoma flinched at the pitch, squinting up to see Kanako standing on the low pool wall with her arms folded, her eyes full of mischief as she feigned a shocked gasp.  
‘I missed you too, Kana,’ Yuzuru yelled back, sticking out his tongue at her.  
‘I never said I didn’t miss you, Nightmare Boy,’ Kanako declared, jumping down and all but flinging herself at him as he laughed softly. ‘I’m so freaking glad to see you,’ she told him quietly, squeezing him tight, and Yuzuru gave her a one-armed hug. ‘You ever put me through that again and I will be the one to try to kill you, huh?’ She pulled back, pointing a warning finger at him and desperately trying to blink away the hint of tears Shoma could see in her eyes.  
‘I mean…it wasn’t my fault but…since when has that stopped anyone having a go at me,’ Yuzuru sighed, smiling lightly, and Kanako smacked at his arm, shaking her head in fond desperation before casting a glance at Shoma. ‘I don’t know how you put up with him.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Mostly by spending half my time being asleep,’ he shrugged, laughing as Yuzuru elbowed him._ _

__‘Yuzu!’ another voice piped up then, and Yuzuru turned just in time to see Mai come flying towards him, her face pure joy and sweetness, and Shoma couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed when Yuzuru instantly dropped his hand in order to catch her in a hug, spinning her round slightly before setting her down, pulling back and placing a hand on top of her head so he could look into her face with a jokingly solemn smile.  
‘You ok?’ he asked her gently, and Mai gave as enthusiastic a nod as she could with Yuzuru’s hand resting on top of her.  
‘Better now,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I was so scared, but I tried to keep hold of what you told me.’ Yuzuru’s smile widened.  
‘When people say “impossible”?’ he prompted, and Mai beamed, nodding again.  
‘We say “let’s see” and keep striving!’ she answered, and Yuzuru laughed, leaning in to give her a hug.  
‘You remembered!’ he said delightedly.  
‘Of course – in Singapore, when those people were questioning my power and I couldn’t get it to work right…I wouldn’t have survived it if you hadn’t said that to me. Now I remember it always.’ Yuzuru pulled back, giving her a resolute nod and offering up his hand for a high five, and Mai bounced excitedly on her heels, answering the offer immediately._ _

__Shoma stepped aside to let Yuzuru be folded into the wider group, standing beside Keiji, who knocked against him kindly, shooting him a vaguely enquiring look.  
‘You ok?’ he asked, and Shoma nodded, looking back over to where Yuzuru was getting hugged by a mini-mob consisting of Wakaba, Marin, Satoko and Kaori as he tried to have a conversation with Kanako and Takahito over the top of Marin’s head.  
‘He needs it,’ Shoma murmured, gesturing vaguely to the bombardment of affection Yuzuru was receiving with a small shrug. ‘He won’t admit it for anything, but…he just needs to believe in the good in the world right now.’ Keiji nodded sagely.  
‘You’re a good friend to him, Shoma.’ Shoma’s lips twisted into a wry smirk, and he cast him a dry sidelong glance.  
‘Really – _now_ you call me his “friend”?’ Keiji let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes and knocking his elbow into Shoma’s.  
‘Hey, I’m actually one of the less pushy ones around here, remember?’ he joked, and Shoma laughed, giving a small nod and glancing down at the floor.  
‘Ok, fine.’ He wrinkled his nose at Keiji, leaning against him slightly. ‘And you’re a good friend too – to both of us.’ Keiji pursed his lips.  
‘I could go somewhere mean with that and say something about not wanting to be friends like you two are friends…but…you just held hands with your boyfriend in front of all of Team Japan so…I feel like you’re going to be getting enough of that already.’ Shoma let out a low groan, and Keiji slung an arm around his shoulders, giving him a conciliatory squeeze. ‘What, no “he’s not my boyfriend”?’ Shoma winced, his blush intensifying.  
‘Actually…we kind of talked about that…’ Keiji arched an eyebrow.  
‘You guys work fast, huh?’  
‘Shut up, it’s been a heavy couple days, ok?’_ _

__As the commotion around Yuzuru died down, he turned towards where Shoma was standing, a childlike pout in his face as he held out his arms, waggling his fingers at Shoma invitingly.  
‘Sho, come back,’ he whined, playfully needy and apparently unfazed by the gaggle of Team Japan all around them, and Shoma laughed, faint and embarrassed even as he caved in, coming over to join him and letting him take firm hold of his hands, yanking him close and kissing the tip of his nose. ‘I have to get back before Jun and Ghislain get in trouble – but…same time tonight?’ Yuzuru raised his eyebrows hopefully, and Shoma laughed again, rolling his eyes and nodding.  
‘Are we supposed to be pretending not to see this right now?’ Kanako asked lightly, and Shoma shot her a half-hearted glare.  
‘See what?’ Kazuki asked, stretching up a little from his poor vantage point behind the girls, and Keiji let out a splutter of a laugh, quickly trying to cover it when Satoko reached out to smack his arm.  
‘Please let me tell him,’ Wakaba gasped, and Kaori jabbed her in the side.  
‘Don’t you dare!’  
‘Get your own life, Kana,’ Yuzuru told Kanako impishly, and Kanako stuck her tongue out at him, turning to Nobu with a pout.  
‘That used to be my line to him.’ Nobu sighed in a show of tragic wistfulness, leaning into Kanako’s side.  
‘They grow up so fast, huh?’ Yuzuru rolled his eyes.  
‘You two have known me too long.’  
‘You’re telling us!’ Kanako laughed. Yuzuru scrunched his nose up fondly, eyes glittering, and Kanako’s smile gentled just slightly. ‘Fine, I saw nothing,’ she sighed, widening her eyes at him, and Yuzuru gave a lazy shrug.  
‘I don’t mind.’ Shoma raised his eyebrows and Yuzuru looked back at him curiously. ‘What?’ Shoma shrugged awkwardly.  
‘Nothing, I just…’ He smiled shyly, looking down with a wrinkle of his nose. ‘Nothing.’ Yuzuru leant in, touching their foreheads together with a mixture of tenderness and teasing that only made Shoma smile despite himself, and he looked back at him slowly.  
‘Hi,’ Yuzuru said. Shoma laughed.  
‘Hi.’ He rolled his eyes self-consciously. ‘Stop being dumb and go save Ghislain and Jun’s lives already.’_ _

__Yuzuru kissed the back of Shoma’s hand, nodding and starting to back away, but he didn’t let go of Shoma’s hand immediately, and Shoma laughed again, stumbling forwards before giving him a gentle shove, letting himself fall back towards him for another kiss and trying to ignore the girls cooing in the background.  
‘Oh!’ Kazuki gasped suddenly, and everyone turned to look at him once more. ‘Wait…is that why Shoma was so-’ Kazuki was immediately cut off by Keiji clamping a hand over his mouth.  
‘If you value your life? Don’t finish that sentence,’ he said archly, and Kazuki quickly pursed his lips, eyes sparkling as he looked over at Shoma with an amused yet faintly embarrassed smile.  
‘Sorry.’ Shoma rolled his eyes, letting out a self-conscious laugh.  
‘It’s fine…I was being kind of…dumb at the time,’ he sighed, before wincing. ‘Both times, I mean,’ he corrected, hitting Yuzuru’s arm when he laughed._ _

__Yuzuru opened his mouth to say something, but before he had the chance to get the words out, another voice cut across the courtyard, and Yuzuru’s eyes widened comically.  
‘Yuzuru Hanyu, just the person I was looking for.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, making alarmed-yet-amused eye contact with Shoma for a beat before quickly spinning around in time to see Brian coming down one of the staircases towards him, a chuckling Javier trailing behind.  
‘Nothing good usually follows when you say that,’ Yuzuru sighed, and Brian shot him a fondly despairing smile, folding his arms and giving a small shake of his head.  
‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,’ he remarked, rolling his eyes, and Yuzuru shot him a sheepish smile. Brian glanced over his shoulder at Shoma then, quirking an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling. ‘And would this little escape act have been anything to do with you, Shoma?’ Shoma bit at his lip, hiding himself behind Yuzuru slightly as he shrugged.  
‘Yuzu asked to see me,’ he mumbled, and Brian chuckled.  
‘And if Yuzuru asked you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?’ he joked. Shoma took a moment to consider the question, scrunching his face up in thought.  
‘I mean…depending on the circumstances…’ He pursed his lips, eyes shining with something devilish that made Yuzuru laugh. ‘What?! It’s a weird request…I’m guessing you’d have your reasons,’ he added, rolling his eyes, and Brian shook his head, sighing deeply.  
‘I give up with you kids, honestly; carry on breaking my rules, ignoring my orders and jumping off cliffs for each other if you must, but please, can we maybe go a couple of days without drama?’ he said, looking between the two of them, and Shoma and Yuzuru exchanged a glance, shrugging.  
‘I think that’s the best you’re going to get out of these two, honestly,’ Javier laughed, slinging an arm around Yuzuru’s neck and ruffling his hair. Shoma watched Yuzuru attempt to elbow him away, and he couldn’t quite fight the slight scowl he could feel coming over his face, failing to suppress it before Javier looked up at him. ‘What, what did I say?’ he asked, leaning across to include Shoma in the hug and squeezing him close enough against him that Shoma could smell the sandalwood and vanilla of his cologne. ‘You want a hug too?’ Yuzuru laughed.  
‘No, he wants to murder you.’ When Javier frowned Yuzuru shot him a pointed look. ‘Three guesses.’ Javier paused for a moment. ‘Huh?’ Yuzuru widened his eyes at him pointedly, and slowly Javier’s expression cleared. ‘Oh, you told him about-’ He cut himself off, his expression strangely impressed as he gave a small nod. ‘Ok – no more Yuzu for me,’ he joked, taking an exaggerated step back and forcefully pushing Yuzuru and Shoma together. ‘There you go, Shoma – all yours. Trust me, I can’t cope with the stress, honestly.’ Shoma fought a smile, still feeling the smallest prickle of irritation at his constant easiness with manhandling Yuzuru but unable to really hold it against him.  
‘Subtle, Javi,’ Yuzuru smirked.  
‘Hey, it worked, didn’t it? He looks 50% less likely to kill me now.’ Shoma pulled a face.  
‘Don’t push it,’ he muttered, and Javier and Yuzuru shared a look before crumpling into laughter, Javier reaching over to ruffle Shoma’s hair as Shoma ducked and pushed him away, trying not to smile._ _

__Brian cleared his throat, and all three of them sobered a little, looking back over at him expectantly as he glanced between the three of them with both exhaustion and amusement in his eyes.  
‘Kids, just so we’re clear on this: whatever that was about? I don’t want to know,’ he told them, lips slowly twitching into a thin smile. ‘As long as it’s not hurting anybody? I’m probably best off out of it.’ He clapped his hands together decisively then, straightening up a little and becoming all business. ‘So…’  
‘Javi said you wanted to talk to me,’ Yuzuru winced. ‘Is it bad?’ Brian tipped his head back and forth.  
‘Well…yes and no.’ He sighed. ‘Javi, show them what you showed me.’ Shoma and Yuzuru both turned to look at Javier, who pulled a face, reaching into his pocket for his phone.  
‘There’s a photo doing the rounds online,’ he explained, handing the phone across to Yuzuru. ‘People are speculating – the media don’t have a hold of it yet, but you guys’ fans are all over it, a lot of the casual Foundation followers too…they’re all sure it’s one of you, they just don’t know which yet. People are starting to talk about one or both of you being back here – it’s only a matter of time before it makes the papers, I think. At least in Japan anyway.’  
‘And if it makes the papers in Japan? It will get back to the Alliance – we know enough about how they operate now to know that much for sure,’ Brian put in solemnly._ _

__Shoma and Yuzuru both leaned in, squinting down at the grainy image on the phone screen curiously. Shoma recognised himself immediately, though he could see why there was debate from people who didn’t know the full version of events over the past few days: the shot was of him standing on the airport concourse beside the plane steps, partially obscured by the group of officials and fluorescent jackets also gathered there, his face hidden by his facemask and glasses. The image was poor enough quality to hide a lot of the giveaways between the two of them: the angle distorted his height, the light making his hair almost blend entirely into the night beyond and the gaggle of people around making it impossible to judge his outline, but to anyone who knew either of them well Shoma was sure it wouldn’t be enough to fool them – Yuzuru, for a start, would never let himself be left to stand, forgotten, at the back of the chaos like that, always at the heart of everything and with clear ideas on what should be happening at any given moment. Yuzuru looked up at Shoma with a mischievous smile, nudging into his side.  
‘Good job people are blind, huh? You look like a lost mouse,’ he smirked, and Shoma elbowed him lightly.  
‘At least I wasn’t busy nearly getting myself killed,’ he shot back with a wrinkle of his nose, and Yuzuru yelped indignantly.  
‘Not out of choice, Shoma!’ he protested, a hint of laughter in his voice and a sparkle of light in his eyes. ‘You’re awful, you know that?’  
‘Yeah, pretty much. But I saved your stupidly long neck, so you kind of have to get over it.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, flicking Shoma’s temple and rolling his eyes before handing the phone back to Javier with a sigh.  
‘So what do we do?’ he asked Brian, who grimaced slightly, tipping his head to one side.  
‘Face it head on and call a press conference, I suppose.’ He looked down, a frown crossing his features for a beat as he let out a heavy sigh. ‘It’s sooner than I would’ve wanted, but we’re walking a fine line with the press at the moment since the Alliance acted so fast with getting their story out before – we need to get ahead of things this time …we can’t risk the public thinking we’re lying to them again.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips.  
‘We can’t win, though,’ he stated quietly. ‘We don’t say something and the Alliance go to the press, then we’re the bad guys. But finding out they didn’t manage to get either me or Shoma taken out of the equation is going to provoke the Alliance no matter how we announce it…they went to a lot of trouble just to make sure we were apart, never mind to try and get rid of me completely. They don’t want us sitting side by side behind Foundation walls, never mind fighting side by side for the Foundation cause.’ Brian nodded slowly.  
‘They’ve collected enough data on Shoma to see real value in him, that’s for sure – I looked over the numbers.’ Brian looked at Shoma thoughtfully then, and Shoma shrank back from it, biting his lip. ‘You’ve got some real power there, huh,’ Brian said slowly. ‘I mean, we knew as much but…they seem to think you’re even more than that. And having seen the research…I can’t blame them, honestly.’ Shoma and Yuzuru exchanged a look, and Brian sighed. ‘Ok, a problem for another time,’ he said wryly. ‘Right now, my main concern is whether or not you boys are ready to face the press on all this…and whether you think we should even run the risk.’_ _

__There was a beat of quiet, and silently Shoma found Yuzuru’s hand with his own, hooking their little fingers together with the gentlest of touches; Yuzuru’s eyes met his immediately, dark and fascinated, and his pink lips parted fractionally in the barest hint of a question mark. Shoma squeezed his fingers gently.  
‘I’m ready if you are,’ he whispered, soft but determined, his expression open and calm. He felt his power inside his chest, felt it break like dawn across his ribs, and he saw in Yuzuru’s eyes that he felt it too. ‘I’m tired of being seen as that person just chasing after you – of being seen as someone who can be dismissed and not taken seriously. I’m equal to you. In this fight and any other. So…I’m done being underestimated and ruled out. They can call me whatever names they want, spread whatever lies they like about my motives: it doesn’t change the person I really am. And that’s a fighter. Just like you. The Alliance should know what they took on.’ Yuzuru’s smile was slow, creeping into his features like crocuses through a spring frost; pushing up from his whole being and opening out into the light.  
‘Anyone who underestimates Shoma is foolish,’ he murmured, leaning against Shoma slightly, his smile quietening a little. ‘If you’re ready, I’m ready: I don’t have any worries about having you by my side…you belong there, and you have strength in ways I never have and never will. The world should see that. The world should appreciate that. As long as you’re ready to let them.’_ _

__Things moved quickly once the details had been talked out, but for once Shoma didn’t feel overtaken by it; he allowed Yuzuru to take the lead, but Yuzuru made sure he was included in the discussions all the same, and that gesture alone was somehow enough to calm Shoma somewhat. It should have been daunting, should’ve felt like something he wasn’t ready for – but Shoma couldn’t bring himself to see it that way. If he started overthinking it, there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, that it would all pile on top of him and bury him until he couldn’t get back up again, but Yuzuru gave him clarity and peace, dispelled the clouds enough for him to believe in his own sunlight. And now Yuzuru’s company was his more than ever before – the two of them were always being summoned to Brian’s office, doing research on Heaven’s Scales in the library and frantically trying to catch up on university deadlines over ridiculously long lunches in which Yuzuru gave half his food to Shoma and Shoma secretly offloaded as many vegetables as he could to Yuzuru to see how long it would take him to notice. They spent so much time messing around in Yuzuru’s hospital room that they drove Tracy to distraction, and finally she admitted defeat and allowed him to be discharged before the week was even over. And most importantly of all to Shoma, Yuzuru’s midnights were his again: the way he sighed as he watched the butterflies and the sound of his laughter beneath the garden’s cherry blossoms, the watercolour shifts of his conjured sky and the little frown he would give when some theory got the better of him, the vivid colour of him reflected in the wildflowers as they danced in the breeze. Shoma was happy to drill Yuzuru on a new set of practice questions, to deliberately needle at his answers and criticise and pick and unravel until Yuzuru groaned at him and pushed him over, pouting when he simply laughed; Yuzuru needed the distraction, the sense of doing something instead of feeling like he was sitting around passing the hours until the press finally began to arrive at the Foundation gates once more, and Shoma was happy to oblige, always fascinated to watch the way he worked and unashamedly proud to be the one he trusted to edit his answers the most sharply._ _

__Yuzuru had offered to drill Shoma with practice questions of his own, but Shoma had declined – he preferred to keep a clear head, found that somehow it seemed like less of a daunting prospect if he wasn’t trying to memorize his words on top of everything else. He was resigned to the fact he would probably mess up, say the wrong thing or misunderstand.  
‘But they should see me, right? The same way your drilled answers are you, my messy answers are me. I’m not going to let them think I’m trying to play at being you. I’m Shoma. You’re Yuzuru. There is room for both of us to stand on that stage without trying to fill the same role the same way, and I’m not interested in playing into their weird quest for some terrible rivalry.’ Yuzuru had smiled at him so gently for that Shoma’s heart had made a bid for freedom from his chest, and questions had been abandoned for the night as Yuzuru kissed him slowly and reverently, whispering his name like a spell against his lips._ _

__The day of the press conference was wetly sunlit and full of the roar of the ocean, a stern breeze and the threat of storms out on the horizon making the Foundation seem even more like the edge of the world than usual, the last point of light before the vastness of the universe beyond. He and Yuzuru had been up with the dawn, sneaking into the Foundation’s press building before the journalists arrived and holing themselves up in the room behind the main media space where the conference was being held whilst they waited for Tracy to come and tell them Brian was done with his opening speeches. Shoma had been exhausted enough to feel somehow insulated from the pressure, but he could sense the tension in Yuzuru, could feel his lightning twist and fragment as he muttered questions and answers to himself under his breath. Shoma had happily dozed against him on the sofa – Yuzuru’s jacket resting over his shoulders like a blanket and Yuzuru occasionally pausing to ask him if an answer sounded good enough, or to simply to drop an absent kiss to the top of his head. But now he had been dislodged and forced to wake up by Yuzuru’s decision to start stretching and pacing the room, clicking and unclicking his lip balm and worrying at the usual spot on his lip which Shoma was convinced he had healed at least a hundred times already that morning; it reminded Shoma of the full gravity of what he had agreed to. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them and biting at the inside of his cheek, his forehead creasing into a frown of concentration as he stared at a spot in the middle distance, his eyes growing dark and clouded as he started to let his own apprehension of what was to come get the better of him._ _

__‘You ok, Shoma?’ Yuzuru’s voice was hushed and kind, but the interruption to the silence still took Shoma by surprise, and he looked up dazedly, his blinks slow as he gazed into Yuzuru’s face. He was wearing his glasses today; Shoma wasn’t sure exactly why, but he knew there would be a reason, because Yuzuru thought about even the most apparently insignificant details, calculating everything to the best of his ability and always trying to make even the most fractional adjustments which could affect how he was received. Shoma supposed the effect of them was softening somehow; the edges were taken out of his features, placing more emphas on the delicate lines of his lips and making him seem simultaneously more grown-up and yet also more innocent. It was disorientating, in a way, because Shoma felt an ache of longing for the sweetness it emphasised in him, but there was something distancing about the PR-crispness of the version of Yuzuru it projected that he would rather push away. ‘Sho?’ Shoma blinked and gave the vaguest bob of his head – he swallowed down the sudden nerves which had crept up on him, pulling himself in a little tighter and letting out a low, frustrated huff.  
‘’M fine,’ he mumbled, mostly into Yuzuru’s jacket. ‘Tired.’ Shoma shrugged lamely, and Yuzuru let out a sceptical hum, leaning back against the wall and studying Shoma for a beat.  
‘You want me to take your mind off it, or do you want me to make you deal with it?’ he asked calmly, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly, looking back up into his eyes with rough-edged fondness.  
‘I don’t know. Deal with it’s probably healthier.’ He sighed, reluctantly disentangling himself from the jacket and stretching out, yawning unashamedly wide before flopping back against the cushions with a groan. ‘Taking my mind off it and letting me go back to sleep sounds more appealing, though,’ he admitted then, flashing Yuzuru a small devilish smirk and feeling a flutter of pride when Yuzuru’s whole face crinkled up happily. ‘I think there’s a chance I’ve forgotten the answer to, like, every single question ever.’ Shoma sighed, screwing his face up into a wince, and Yuzuru laughed, bright and strangely kind.  
‘Every single question ever, huh?’ he beamed, tipping his head back against the wall and humming lightly. ‘But you still know your name, right?’ Shoma shot him a half-hearted glare and he laughed again. ‘Age?’  
‘Twenty.’ Yuzuru nodded solemnly, his eyes twinkling with amusement still.  
‘Favourite hobby?’  
‘Sleeping. Gaming. Apparently putting up with dumb questions from Yuzuru Hanyu.’ Yuzuru stuck his tongue out at him and Shoma smiled back at him wickedly, the two of them holding the look for a moment before Yuzuru rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall with a thoughtful sigh.  
‘Nationality?’  
‘Japanese.’  
‘Brother’s name?’  
‘Nightmare, Brat, Horror, Moron. Sometimes we call him Itsuki.’ Yuzuru smirked, giving a nod of acknowledgement before pursing his lips once more.  
‘Hometown?’  
‘Nagoya.’  
‘Height?’  
‘Tall enough to hit you, short enough to get you in your shins pretty good.’ Shoma arched an eyebrow at Yuzuru, and Yuzuru smothered a smile.  
‘Foundation ID?’  
‘17129702.’  
‘Mentor’s name?’  
‘Mihoko Higuchi.’  
‘Power specialism?’  
‘As far as most people know? Healing.’ Yuzuru nodded slowly, letting his body fall slightly with the motion as he tipped himself to one side, eyes glittering with unguarded mischief as he arched an eyebrow at Shoma playfully.  
‘Opinions on the troubling political developments between the US Ministry For Power and the Canadian Ministry For Power and the potential for unsettled relations on the wider international stage, including reasoned arguments for both sides’ approaches and a detailed explanation of the wider implications of any compromise on future treaties and operations going forwards?’ Shoma stared him down for a beat.  
‘I…think…’ He licked his lips. ‘I think Yuzu has an answer for that question,’ he said with a nod, and Yuzuru laughed, his head thrown back delightedly for a moment before he gave Shoma small bow of acknowledgement, giving him a tiny, giddy clap, his eyes two crescents and his lightning wild.  
‘Well it seems like you still have plenty of answers,’ he grinned. ‘Just try to keep some of the smart mouthing to yourself and avoid yawning in their faces and you’ll be fine, Sho.’_ _

__Shoma suddenly didn’t care that he had to face the press, didn’t care that he was probably going to say something dumb or do the wrong thing. The best thing had happened to him already: he had Yuzuru, lit up electric for him and looking at him with those piercing eyes, shamelessly, giddily thrilled by him. His cheeks felt hot and he tried to smother his smile, shaking his head and looking down almost shyly. Sometimes Yuzuru was so much it was almost overwhelming – Shoma didn’t know what to do with the emotions, with the sheer fullness of his chest, and his cheeks ached from smiling more than he ever did with other people. He blew out a breath, looking up at Yuzuru through his fringe, his eyes narrowing just slightly.  
‘Did you just trick me into having my mind taken off things?’ Yuzuru’s lips twisted to one side, and he tilted his head in a show of innocence.  
‘Did it work?’ he asked, and Shoma let out a laughing groan.  
‘Yeah, actually it…kinda did,’ he conceded with a roll of his eyes. ‘You find that way too easy.’  
‘Which part: the distracting you or the confusing you?’ Yuzuru smiled, quiet but still somehow impish, a glimmer in his eyes that made Shoma shiver slightly. ‘Or the part where you’re so busy staring at me that all other thoughts fade away?’ Shoma broke, letting out a high, happy laugh and wrinkling his nose at him, balling up Yuzuru’s jacket and launching it at his face as hard as he could.  
‘I hate you so much,’ he laughed, and Yuzuru beamed at him as he caught the jacket effortlessly, spinning elegantly on his heel with the motion, giddy and absurd and brilliant.  
‘You wish you could hate me, but really? You know I’m the best,’ Yuzuru declared, giggly but fond, and Shoma stretched out a leg, aiming a kick at him and huffing when he danced easily out of the way.  
‘Does your ego ever give it a rest?’ Shoma complained with a shake of his head, and Yuzuru shrugged, airy and blithe.  
‘About as often as your crush on me, sure.’ Shoma pursed his lips, and Yuzuru stared him down, raising his eyebrows slightly in challenge. ‘What, no comeback?’ Shoma opened his mouth then closed it again, folding his arms and flopping back against the cushions to study Yuzuru thoughtfully.  
‘If you think what I have on you is just a crush then you haven’t been paying attention,’ he stated, and Yuzuru’s smile gentled as he nodded slowly, tipping his head back and forth before holding out a hand to Shoma, waggling his fingers demandingly. The gesture coaxed a small laugh out of Shoma, and he reached out and took the offered hand, dragging himself to his feet with a soft groan, his head falling back as he let Yuzuru tug him close._ _

__As he stumbled into the circle of Yuzuru’s orbit, Shoma let himself look into his face, smiling slightly as Yuzuru leant in to press a kiss to his forehead.  
‘Good comeback,’ he said softly, and Shoma offered him a lopsided smile.  
‘Yeah, well…I had to figure out a way to shut you up somehow.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Save your words for the army of journalists outside – hopefully you’ll talk enough they’ll be too exhausted to ask me anything.’ Yuzuru let out a small, outraged yelp from the back of his throat, poking Shoma in the ribs when he caught his smirk and drawing out a helpless squeak from him as he flinched backwards.  
‘Hey: adore me, Shoma, adore me now!’ Yuzuru laughed, still attacking all the soft spots along Shoma’s ribcage which he knew were ticklish, his smile growing wider as Shoma let out a high, helpless laugh, finally surrendering and letting himself be caught around the waist and pulled flush against Yuzuru’s chest.  
‘You’re the worst, you know that?’ Shoma laughed breathlessly as Yuzuru kissed him behind his ear, against his temple, the crook of his neck, his laughter vibrating against Shoma’s back and his smile pressing into his skin, sending shivers through his whole body. ‘I can’t believe I like you,’ he whimpered, finally letting himself go limp in Yuzuru’s arms, and Yuzuru laughed again, allowing him to twist around in his grasp so that they were facing each other_ _

__Shoma looked up into Yuzuru’s face with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, letting out a sigh as he caught his breath, his smile sobering just a little even as something mischievous glinted in his eyes. ‘You’re such a nightmare, you know that, right?’  
‘I’m a daydream,’ Yuzuru replied airily, dipping his head to kiss the side of Shoma’s face and laughing when he swerved away at the last second with a devilish smirk.  
‘You sure about that? Or are you just a pest who doesn’t know when to quit?’ Yuzuru wrinkled his nose at him, quickly ducking in again to snatch the kiss he had wanted before and then arching back gracefully to look down into Shoma’s face.  
‘Admit it, though: are you thinking about the press conference right now?’ he asked, quirking an eyebrow and opening his mouth in an exaggeratedly curious expression that made Shoma laugh despite himself.  
‘No, I’m thinking about how easy it would be to kill you while you sleep – when you’re all vulnerable and studied-out and pathetically trusting.’ Yuzuru laughed.  
‘Shoma, you practically kill me in my sleep without even trying: you always end up lying on top of me and you’re heavier than you look.’ Shoma reached up to flick his forehead.  
‘I have to find a spot where there’s some muscle for a pillow – you have, like, a hundred more bones than normal people do, Yuzu, and they’re all pointy.’  
‘You could just go sleep in your own room, you know…’ Yuzuru said dryly, and Shoma snorted, scrunching fistfuls of Yuzuru’s sleeves up in his hands to grasp his forearms more tightly and give him a playful shake.  
‘Stop using logic on me,’ he pouted, and Yuzuru let out a rough laugh.  
‘What would you rather I use on you, huh?’ he asked, voice suddenly low and soft, the sound of it a dull burr that ran through Shoma’s bones, making his whole body hum happily.  
‘I don’t know…the full force of your personality?’ he joked quietly._ _

__There was a whisper of gold and silver dancing between them in the quiet, barely-there ribbons of light briefly unfurling and fluttering around them and then dissolving off into the heavy morning air. It made Shoma feel fuzzy, Yuzuru’s body his anchor and his guards all down. He lifted his eyes slowly, giving Yuzuru a lazy, unfocused look, his smile weary but total, and Yuzuru smiled back at him, something hushed and magical about the barely-there pink curve and the way it lit his eyes up in gold; it was like the morning after a storm, wet cloud still thick in the air, light breaking through with rough-edged warmth. Yuzuru brought his fingers up to Shoma’s jawline, careful and delicate as he dragged the ridges of his fingerprints across the rash-sore skin of his blush, deliberate and slow, his eyes following the path his fingers took for a moment before they drifted back up to meet Shoma’s gaze. He licked his lips, something knowing about the way he smiled when Shoma’s eyes drifted down to the sticky sheen of lip balm there, and Shoma drew in a stutter of breath as Yuzuru’s thumb moved up to drag along his bottom lip with a fond, thoughtful sigh.  
‘Come here,’ he said, sudden but soft, and Shoma frowned faintly in confusion, letting Yuzuru knock his hand lightly under his chin to make him tip his head upwards just a little. Keeping one hand on Shoma’s chin, Yuzuru reached into his pocket, smiling mischievously whilst Shoma dutifully allowed himself to be held in place as he produced his lip balm, carefully uncapping it and gently running it over the dry, chapped skin of Shoma’s lips._ _

__As Yuzuru drew his hand back, Shoma immediately pressed his lips together, running his tongue over his bottom lip almost instinctively, expecting to taste marshmallow and feeling his frown deepen slightly when instead what he found was caramel. Yuzuru brought a hand to his cheek again, moving to rest their foreheads together and capture a kiss from Shoma’s lips, but Shoma arched back somewhat indignantly, staring up at Yuzuru with a look he knew was absurdly wounded and confused but that he couldn’t quite shake from his features. ‘What happened to marshmallow?’ he asked bluntly, eliciting a low, gentle laugh from Yuzuru, who grazed his knuckles fondly along Shoma’s cheek.  
‘It ran out – someone with rough lips and a dumb smile kissed it all off of me.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes slightly, and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose, his smile amused as he reached back into his pocket and held up the new, offending lip balm for Shoma to inspect. Shoma took it from him somewhat sulkily, turning the tiny cartoon panda over in his hand and unclicking the cap with mild suspicion. He licked some of the traces of caramel from the corner of his lip as he returned the cap and tossed it disapprovingly back to Yuzuru, who laughed, reflexes sharp as he reached up instantly to catch it.  
‘It tastes good,’ Shoma admitted slowly, his frown not clearing from his face and his eyes still down turned. ‘But it doesn’t taste of you.’ He looked back up into Yuzuru’s face then, wrinkling his nose slightly and attempting a dismissive shrug. ‘You’re sticky and sweet and…kind of ridiculous. Caramel is way too smooth.’ Yuzuru scrunched his face up, letting out another small laugh and tilting his head as he looked down at the lip balm in his hand for a beat. He glanced between it and Shoma with sparkling eyes, catching his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before suddenly tossing the small, round panda from one hand to another a couple of times and then throwing it up a little way into the air, clicking his fingers sharply as both he and Shoma watched it loop up between them. Shoma studied Yuzuru curiously, but Yuzuru’s smile only widened as he caught the lip balm effortlessly in his palm without looking, widening his eyes and offering Shoma an absurd, giddy look as he turned the lip balm over before holding it back up for Shoma to see. And when Shoma looked at it he couldn’t help but let out a soft, disarmed laugh, looking up at Yuzuru disbelievingly as he simply quirked an eyebrow at him, playfully smug as he took in the look on Shoma’s face when he realised the lip balm was, once more, in the shape of the absurd cartoon cat of Yuzuru’s marshmallow flavoured lip balm. Shoma bit his lip, trying hard not to smile as he shook his head slightly, giving Yuzuru the gentlest of shoves.  
‘You are such a dork,’ he said through another laugh, and Yuzuru shrugged happily, briskly running the magically-replenished lip balm over his lips. Shoma rolled his eyes. ‘You’re here for a press conference because some bad guys used magic the wrong way and you just used your power to change your lip balm flavour?’ he asked, dry but fond, and Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled with carefree amusement as he briskly re-capped the lip balm and returned it to his pocket with a light hum.  
‘But tell me this, Shoma: did it make you smile?’ He tilted his head expectantly, and Shoma let out a soft groan.  
‘Shut up,’ he said, still smiling and knowing Yuzuru saw it, and when he looked back at Yuzuru he was beaming at him, silly and content.  
‘Magic sustains magic, right? I think your smile is enough magic to put back what I took out.’ Shoma laughed, the sound more overwhelmed than anything and his eyes looking up into Yuzuru’s face with immeasurable warmth, a happiness deep inside the pit of his stomach that he knew would last long beyond the moment, a feeling that had become a part of him and a memory that had imprinted onto him, forming him, shaping him, becoming something that he knew would make this something which could never truly be forgotten or taken away.  
‘You’re ridiculous,’ they said in unison, and Shoma had to work hard not to let a wild smile break out across his lips as Yuzuru grinned at him teasingly. He sighed and rolled his eyes.  
‘I love you sometimes.’ He let the words out in a laugh and a breath, before he even realised he was saying them, and it took him a split second to process what he’d said, his head jerking up and his eyes widening in alarm as he looked back into Yuzuru’s face, panicked and wrongfooted. But he couldn’t get a clue out of Yuzuru’s expression, his eyes still too dark and sparkling to give anything away. ‘I didn’t mean-’ Shoma cut himself off sharply, and Yuzuru raised his eyebrows, something almost playfully expectant about the way he hung on Shoma’s words. ‘I just meant that-’ Shoma stopped again, swallowing hard and wincing, and Yuzuru’s lips parted in an earnest, enquiring look that only made Shoma feel more overwhelmed, his lungs pressing against his ribs as his whole body went tight and his skin prickled with goosebumps. He moved his mouth, opening it then closing it again abruptly, swallowing hard as he looked up at the ceiling and drew in a shaky breath. ‘What I meant was…’ He sighed, closing his eyes for a beat, and when he opened them again Yuzuru was still watching him, something trustingly curious in the curve of his lips. ‘I don’t really love you sometimes,’ Shoma said roughly, shaking his head and glancing down at his hands. ‘What I meant was that…I love you all the time. Every time. And…in my own time, because…because that’s what you let me do…’ He sucked at his bottom lip, almost laughing as he tasted the remnants of caramel there. He drew in another breath and then looked back up, meeting Yuzuru’s eyes immediately. ‘I just love you. That’s it. That’s the whole thing I’m trying to tell you. Words are dumb and those are the only ones I have.’_ _

__Shoma quickly looked down again, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and pulling his whole body in instinctively in the sudden quiet – and then, like a spell breaking, Shoma felt Yuzuru take a step closer to him, his hand curling against his jaw as he leant their foreheads together.  
‘Shoma.’ An almost reproachful plea, something profound and gentle in it, but a demand in the way his other hand pulled Shoma’s body flush against his own. ‘Shoma, look at me,’ he said, leaning back just enough to look into Shoma’s face and brushing his fingers along Shoma’s long lashes before bringing them down to tap against his chin almost playfully. Shoma’s eyes fluttered open, and he took a second to refocus, blinking up at the blur of Yuzuru’s features until finally he could see the light in his eyes once again. Yuzuru raised his eyebrows at him and Shoma let out a rough breath of laughter.  
‘I hate you so much,’ he managed, his voice annoyingly small, and Yuzuru smiled at him slowly, his hand running down Shoma’s side agonisingly careful, coming to settle at his hip and giving it a squeeze.  
‘No you don’t,’ he said simply, his other hand reaching up to tuck some of Shoma’s wayward hair into place. ‘You love me.’  
‘I could change my mind,’ Shoma mumbled shyly, looking away, but Yuzuru shook his head, squeezing Shoma’s hip again until he looked back up.  
‘Really?’ He tilted his head slightly in enquiry. ‘Because I couldn’t.’ Shoma stared at him for a beat, his eyebrows drawing together slightly and an errant paper plane making its way in a spiral around his insides. He opened his mouth then closed it again, and Yuzuru laughed faintly, leaning in to press a single, chaste marshmallow kiss to Shoma’s lips. ‘I love you too, you idiot,’ he said against Shoma’s skin, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. ‘For a while now, actually. But…’ He trailed off, shrugging, and Shoma let out a small overwhelmed laugh. ‘You take your time, huh?’ Yuzuru teased, and Shoma stared at him dazedly, a smile creeping into his face._ _

__Yuzuru stepped close enough then that Shoma could feel his heart beating, and when he drew in a breath it caught in his throat, the feeling of Yuzuru’s fingers a thrill through his whole body. He let his eyes close as Yuzuru ran a fingertip along the curve of his ear, the square of his jaw, the cracks of his lips – he let out an ache of a sigh when he dragged his thumb lightly down from his chin to his neck to his collarbone, and Yuzuru’s breath tickled past his cheek as he ducked in to press a line of kisses from his jaw slowly down to his lips. Shoma tasted marshmallow, felt the pressure of Yuzuru’s other hand at his hip and could smell the cool, light scent of jasmine on Yuzuru’s skin – Yuzuru’s frame was frail and thin, but his body was a force, pulling Shoma up and up into the kiss, bringing him on to his tiptoes and making him have to curve his spine to fit against the line of Yuzuru’s body. His fingers curled at Yuzuru’s neck, and he drew one hand slowly down to press against his chest, savouring the shift of the muscle as he breathed heavily into the kiss as they both gentled it, turning it into a series of sticky, sweet lip balm pecks, Shoma kissing Yuzuru’s cheek and Yuzuru catching the corner of his lips, taking it in turns to chase each other._ _

__The two of them were still mostly wrapped up in each other when the door opened, and Shoma jerked sharply back, blushing furiously as Yuzuru let him down and looking away shyly even as Yuzuru turned to where Tracy was standing, arms folded as she looked between the two of them.  
‘Let me guess: Shoma had something on his face? Or maybe you were helping fix his hair?’ she smiled, pleasant and fond and lightly amused. Considering how many journalists were crammed in the building, Shoma wasn’t sure how she managed to remain so unfazed, but there was nothing but warmth in her energy and Shoma could only sense gentle kindness radiating off her, no hint of annoyance or surprise. Shoma cast a nervous glance up at Yuzuru, but he seemed surprisingly nonchalant, his head tipped to one side and a small frown on his face.  
‘No, pretty sure I was just kissing him,’ he shrugged. Tracy blinked in surprise, and Shoma did too, twitching back just a fraction and widening his eyes, looking from Yuzuru to Tracy and back again cautiously.  
‘Oh,’ Tracy stated. ‘Well…ok then.’ She cast Shoma a small, reassuring smile. ‘That told me, huh?’ Shoma smiled shyly, and Tracy’s eyes shone as she looked back to Yuzuru. ‘Think you can bear to put my star Healer down for five minutes and deal with a couple questions from these lovely journalists who are crammed in the room next door awaiting the big announcement…or should I tell them their headline is busy romancing his boyfriend?’ Shoma let out a faint, overwhelmed splutter of laughter, and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose, elbowing Shoma playfully in the side.  
‘No, I’m good,’ he said, adjusting his skewed glasses and fixed his mussed hair before flicking Shoma’s temple when he caught his smirk. ‘You don’t look any better, Sho,’ he teased, reaching around him to grab up his jacket from where he’d abandoned it on the side before turning to Tracy with a resigned sigh. ‘Let’s get this over with, huh?’ Tracy nodded, casting Shoma a gentle smile.  
‘I’d maybe ask Jason if you can borrow his comb before you join us,’ she advised._ _

__Shoma took a moment to gather himself, trying to let the sudden peace and stillness of the room sink into his skin, hoping it might dispel the intense heat which was still clinging to him and the low vibration in his bones; an echo of Yuzuru’s giddiest lightning was still zigzagging through his veins, spiralling in trails of silver and gold, and he felt the faint tickle of his power mark glowing at his wrist. He tried to breathe through it, to push back the wild smile and the fullness of feeling, and on the edges of his consciousness he felt the cool blush of cherry blossom and thunderclouds, a mist of happy, calming spring rain that ghosted behind his closed eyelids, soothing and bright, a nonsense of Yuzuru-ness that gentled his smile and scattered the intensity of the feeling in his chest into a dusting of petals that fluttered quietly inside his rib cage._ _

__When he finally slipped out into the corridor between the two rooms, he found Jason standing at a table full of media information packs in every language Shoma could think of, stacking them neatly into designated boxes and watching the monitor on the wall which was showing the live feed of the press conference. There was a flurry of flashbulbs and microphones around the politely bowing figure of Yuzuru as he listened to a hundred questions and somehow found the right answers in the middle of the chaos, his eyes silly-bright and a slight sheen of lip balm glimmering on his lips. Shoma shook his head fondly._ _

__‘Hey, Shoma,’ Jason said, nudging his shoulder as he came to stand with him. ‘So…what did you say to Yuzuru before you sent him out there, huh? He’s glowing like…good weather on a Friday afternoon right now.’ Shoma bit his lip, trying hard not to smile as he offered Jason an awkward shrug. He looked up at the screen, watching for a moment as Yuzuru bubbled his way through an answer, somehow managing for all the world to look like the past week hadn’t even happened.  
‘I just…wished him good luck, I guess.’ Jason laughed and Shoma smiled shyly, letting out a strangled laugh of his own as the stubborn blush began to return to his cheeks.  
‘Wow,’ Jason beamed, looking back up at the screen with a considering nod. ‘Well I wish someone would wish _me_ good luck like that.’ He gave Shoma’s shoulder’s a kind squeeze. ‘This is so precious, and I am so happy for you but…don’t try to sell the good luck lie again, right? Because trust me – no one looks like that without good reason.’_ _

__Shoma wasn’t anywhere near ready when the moment finally came: Tracy slipping back through the door with a reassuring smile and a kindly raise of her eyebrows to let him know Brian was about to introduce him to the assembled crowd. But he squared his shoulders all the same, blew out a breath and gave her a nod to say he was ok. His courage might have been wavering in the face of an unfamiliar amount of attention and pressure, but his conviction, deep down, remained the same – he had no desire anymore to hide from this side of his nature, the dug-in-heels-chasing-stars intensity he and Yuzuru both shared, and, beyond that he was done hiding, done letting himself be underestimated and picked apart for things he wasn’t. If they were going to doubt him, hate him, wilfully misunderstand him, he wanted people to do it based, at least, on some semblance of the person he actually was. He wasn’t sure he could ever master Yuzuru’s trick of being fifty different levels of himself on any given day, but he could be Shoma, awkward as that could be – less professional, sometimes stumbling, but just as fierce and capable underneath._ _

__The flashes were blinding in his eyes, and for a minute all Shoma could see was blackspots and pinpricks of white, shadows and shapes distorted as a hundred cameras clicked at once, the sound of shutters going up and down the line like falling dominoes. Brian shepherded him gently into place, instructing the media when the time for posing was over and pulling out a chair for Shoma that he sat down in with a curt, shy little bow, instinctively reaching to pour himself a water before finally risking a glance to his side._ _

__Yuzuru was glorious and sweet, smiling at Shoma like he was the loveliest, finest thing he had ever known – it was a look so soft, so pure that Shoma smiled his most natural smile back in return, somehow able to forget the flurry of flashbulbs capturing the moment in favour of focusing on the reassurance in Yuzuru’s eyes. Yuzuru reached out a hand to cover his microphone, leaning in so his lips were dangerously close to Shoma’s ear.  
‘Ready?’ he whispered, and Shoma’s smile twitched a little wider at the tickle of his breath in his hair. Yuzuru leant back just enough to meet his eyes and Shoma offered him the smallest of nods, almost laughing when Yuzuru’s eyes crinkled fondly at the corners. ‘Show them my Shoma – and if you get stuck on something? Remember: Yuzu has an answer for that.’ Shoma laughed softly, and Yuzuru flashed him a quick wink before turning to give one of the staff the ok to open the floor up to the journalists’ questions._ _

__As Shoma faced the room full of unfamiliar faces, he felt Yuzuru reach out beneath the table, and, out of view of the camera lenses, he hooked their little fingers together, not letting go until it was finally time for them to leave._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…how did I do?? Did you actually see that coming - because if you did well done, I didn't even know until my characters told me this was how they wanted this chapter to turn out, honestly!! As always, thank you for sticking with me through my wordcounts, my delays whilst I edit last minute and put in my HTML by hand because character limit hates me and for suffering my various livetweets and agonies! I hope I can bring you the next chapter soonish, but I have a big thing for work coming up, my birthday is in March, I have a bunch of stuff going on in real life that's complicated, so I can’t say for sure when the next update will be, but I hope this chapter keeps you going until I make it back with more? ALL THE LOVE - readers of this story, I will say it again: I had some rough moments, honestly, entirely unrelated to writing whilst working on this chapter, and you people restore my faith in humanity every time, thank you more than I can tell you and I look forward to seeing you all with the next update.xxxxxx
> 
>  
> 
> Now, music music music, as promised: Come On Love, Flaws, Spin, Into The Wild, Carry Me Home, Will You Be There For Me, The Last Poet, Every Revolution, Beautiful World, Here, Higher Then Higher, You, Pray (Odyssey Version), Flowerbed, Eight Letters, Affirmation, The Flood, Get Ready For It, Hold Up A Light, Everlasting – Take That, Can’t Stop, Colours, All We Are, If I Lose Myself, Come Home, Born – OneRepublic, Last Party – MIKA, Ruin My Life – Zara Larsson, Back To You – Selena Gomez, i’m so tired... – Lauv & Troye Sivan, Your Song, Let You Love Me – Rita Ora, Radio, Without You, Runaway Train, New York – Busted, Delicate – Taylor Swift, Follow Your Fire – Kodaline, Arms Open, Flares – The Script, Sunlight – Diana Vickers, This Year's Love - Boyce Avenue (cover), Surrender - Natalie Taylor. Believe it or not there's more, but I think that should keep you going for a while ;) Anything Take That or Busted is a must and Ruin My Life was the song that got me through editing & spending two hours putting in my corrections from my final readthrough! Happy listening!


	8. We All Fall In The End [Part One]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you may have gathered from how long this took...this chapter was an all-out war for me with blood, sweat, tears and some frantic typing, but, with a lot of complaining to my Emotional Support Twin who I could not have done this without, we somehow got here only one week later than I originally planned, and guess what? I finally broke character limit, so you're getting two chapters for the price of one tonight! It is the least you kind, sweet, patient, wonderful readers deserve; your comments, your kudos, your encouragement and those of you who keep me company as I battle through chapters & figure skating competitions on Twitter make ever single second I have spent yelling at this chapter completely 100% worth it and I hope you will all enjoy this gigantic 95k offering. Many, many music recs will be at the end, but this time I will leave them at the end of part two, although one thing I will say is that Everlasting by Take That was one of the original inspirations for this chapter, and if I wasn't taking titles from The Garden then the title of this chapter could well have been from that song ("For one last night, for all of time...") so if you listen to nothing else then I do at least recommend that and also Freeze by Take That too :)
> 
> Precious One: I am so proud of you, I hope this is the gift you deserve.  
> Ghosty: Never, ever doubt how appreciated your love of 1000-word kisses is.  
> Twin: I would not have survived Worlds or Chapter 8 without you. I am sorry for how often I have made you cry.  
> Every single patient, kind Just Miracles reader: I see you out there, you all are precious and wonderful, you have so many great ideas and theories and you. are such sweethearts and your affection for my wordy AU is forever appreciated, thank you so much, all of you.
> 
> Now, finally, finally, this chapter that I hated so many times but I am now a little bit proud of? Is all yours. See you in the endnotes on part two...

_‘…Shoma?’_

_Unblinking and still, Shoma watched with tired eyes as a wayward bird swooped away from the rest of the flock, dipping low towards the rolling grey of the early morning ocean. He followed its path as it skimmed the sea foam crests and battled against the lashing sprays before disappearing from view. His face was quiet and grey, a blank mask – his emotions had been stretched too far and the elastic had given out, something inside his chest going slack and quiet and useless, and not enough left inside to work the muscles in his face. He had to fight through a fog just to breathe, and finding the energy to do anything more than that seemed like an impossibility._

_‘Shoma, did you understand the question?’_

_He was vaguely aware of Mihoko’s hand squeezing his, of the faraway sound of her voice, muffled through the ocean roar in his head, but there was a dissonance between himself and his own body and it was made worse by the empty, exhausted feeling which pressed at his ribs. The world was tipping, dizzying and overwhelming, and he felt he was floating away from it, yet somehow still stubbornly grounded, the ache and heaviness of his body and the effort it took to support his head reminding him he couldn’t simply let himself drift the way he wanted to. He was also faintly aware of everyone’s eyes watching him, but what they were thinking was beyond him, and he watched with unblinking eyes as the raindrops on the windows blurred the scenery into wet impressions of the edge the world – the jagged edge of the cliff softened into marbled watercolour, a vague outline of a sinister thing, and Shoma felt a dull, dim memory of feeling creep up from inside him. He swallowed it down, pushed it away, felt it shiver its way out through his fingertips, but he knew he couldn’t keep it back forever. He lowered his gaze, tracing the line of the cliff down and down in a path he didn’t want to follow but somehow couldn’t deny. He stared hard at the chaos and fury, the whirl of grey and the batter of the waves, and the whole world was briefly nothing but the roar of the ocean and a memory of rain. Shoma closed his eyes for a beat, but the black behind his eyelids was no more comforting, full of shifting shapes and a shake of feathers in the air. He opened his eyes again quickly, staring out at the bleakness and taking a moment to try and even out his breathing once again. The rocks below the cliff were such a hard, ominous black, oil-slick dark and beaten against by dirty blue waves which sworled and spat and crashed into each other unforgivingly. Everything felt unforgiving in that moment; the cliff, the sea, the birds, the rain. Even the air. Especially the air. It scratched in his lungs and rattled in his skull and reminded him of all the empty corners inside. The world was unkind. He had always known it, but the confirmation still stung._

_‘Shoma? Did you hear the Minister’s question or do you need him to repeat it?’ Shoma blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Slow-motion and silent, drawing in his shoulders and pursing his lips. He squinted just a little, as though he could see through the mist outside and make out the familiar outline of too-long limbs and erratic grace. A shadow, a trick of the light, a dance of moisture against the glass; something which could never quite be recreated or described. Something with a sort of ineffable, indefinable power – there for just a moment before it disappeared, somehow nothing of note and yet still haunting. Like the wink of a raindrop catching the moonlight, the ripples made by a petal falling onto still water…the slow, delicate circle of someone turning away from you for the last time, their hand slipping out of your own. Some things could never be recreated; there was as much magic in that as there was tragedy, that was always how moments turned and meaning settled. Shoma pulled slightly at the sleeve of the jacket, let the familiar softness of it wound him just a little – he allowed in the smallest sliver of feeling, the faintest rush of bergamot and memories clouding up into the air around him like a fine powder. It didn’t feel like sunlight breaking through, it didn’t feel like comfort. It felt like winter; like a place he had known once which was now frost-bitten and still._

_‘Brian, do we have to do this now? He’s not ready to go through this yet – none of us are.’ Tracy rubbed absently at Shoma’s back as she spoke, and Mihoko leant in a little closer, pulling his hand towards her to pat it protectively. Shoma’s fingers twitched faintly in response, but he didn’t take his gaze away from the wind-whipped grey beyond the windows, the rain a chaotic staccato against the glass and the birds wet dashes of running ink, fighting up into the hollow whiteness of the sky overhead._

_‘If it was up to me, we wouldn’t be doing this at all.’ Brian sounded as absent as Shoma felt, his voice tired and thin and his eyes not quite meeting anyone else’s. ‘Look, no one in my team is ready to start with these godawful formalities…least of all Shoma, you know? And I think all of us are agreed this is the last thing he needs right now. He needs rest, time. He needs distance from what happened; we all do.’ Shoma closed his eyes. ‘Couldn’t you at least give us a week’s breathing room? Let us get his family here? You’re only making this a hundred times worse by forcing the issue – I mean, he hasn’t spoken to anyone since-’ Brian cut himself off with a wounded wince, blowing out a quick breath. ‘He just…he hasn’t spoken for a while now. And in my opinion that should be more than enough evidence that this is not the time for paperwork and press releases.’ Shoma’s fingers pulled at the sleeve of the jacket once more. It still felt safe. It still felt warm, just like Yuzuru always did; there was a tracing-paper outline left behind, a pencil sketch of arms and laughter that lingered over him like cobwebs every time he felt the fabric brush his skin._

_‘And you are aware, Mr. Orser, that Hanyu has a family too, I suppose? A family outside these glass walls of yours – a family our ministry have a duty to.’ Brian flinched. ‘How long do you expect us to be able to keep any of what has happened here from the headlines, in Japan and around the world? To keep this information from his own parents and from the thousands who you have allowed to hang their hopes on him time and time again?’_

_‘I’m sorry, who_ I _have allowed?!’_

_‘Forgive me, Mr. Orser, if I seem out of line, but surely you can see why perhaps we are reluctant to trust your judgement right now, when it comes to our people? Given what has happened on your watch, inside your own kingdom…’ Shoma flinched. He didn’t need to sense to know the dull, bruising ache of the guilt inside of Brian; he felt it too._

_‘Oh no, don’t you dare try and make this Brian’s fault – Yuzu’s stage was never our choice, was hardly even his own choice, and you people know it, mostly because you used it for your own agenda whenever it suited you.’ Tracy’s voice was cool and strained, and the sound of Yuzuru’s name suddenly felt like a brutal thing to Shoma. He shivered a little against it, feeling it rattle painfully around the hollowness inside him, echoing through his bones. ‘And if you think any of this could’ve been prevented without the help of some sort of crystal ball-’_

_‘It could’ve been prevented if Hanyu had been kept on a tighter leash, Ms. Wilson. Indulged less, not allowed to believe he was invincible.’ Ghislain let out a rasping sound of disbelief._

_‘Unbelievable; even now, even after all this, you can’t see him as a human being. He’s your puppet, your headline – a publicity stunt. You’re scrambling for a new set of shoulders to lay the world on and you’re looking for answers which might somehow appease your guilt about the boy you let carry the weight alone for all this time.’ Ghislain’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy – he looked like someone had taken a scrubbing brush to his entire being, everything about him scraped and sore and overwhelmed. Shoma could only imagine that sensation; he was just empty, a layer of snow covering his skin and the sound of crumpling paper inside him every time he tried to force himself to reach out and feel._

_‘All you can see in this is an opportunity, isn’t it – all you can think of is the next move, how to put Shoma in a space still warm from the last body you had there. These kids are just headlines to you, just publicity stunts. Names and numbers to be used and dropped as the moment suits. Yuzu was a gift, a godsend…and a wonderful person. And you used him. You wasted him. You pushed him over the edge.’ Tracy flinched at the words, shaking her head and looking away, and everyone paused for a moment, tense and silent. ‘You pushed him too far,’ Tracy corrected softly. ‘And you don’t even care. Spin it, retell it, repackage it and get Shoma to smooth it all over. Fine. That sounds like a wonderful plan, eh? Who needs to learn from their mistakes when they could just keep repeating them, leaving a trail of broken people in their wake.’_

_‘Ms. Wilson-’_

_‘No. No. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even know what I’m doing here, honestly – this patient hasn’t been discharged from my care yet and, frankly, I don’t answer to you anyway, let alone when someone’s health is at stake. We shouldn’t be here – and Shoma definitely shouldn’t be here. This is madness. And it’s neither the time nor the place to start pulling all this apart and trying to start over again. The fact you can’t see that tells me everything I need to know about whether you can be trusted to handle any of Shoma’s care – of any variety – from here on out; how you managed to persuade me it was even a possibility to allow him to return to Japan with you at any point in the near future is beyond me. Shoma belongs here. Where he has chosen_ _to be – you can’t just uproot him because it’s what you’ve decided. It should be his decision, made in his time. This is about him – not me, not the board and certainly not you or your ministry.’ The thought attempted to shake at his foundations: the possibility of leaving here, the idea that there was any chance he could simply be whisked away one day to never return. It was a low, dull punch; the vibration of it registered, but not the pain. They could try and move him, he supposed, but he couldn’t imagine it; he was granite in this earth, the ocean beat against him and the soil got under his nails. He pursed his lips and tasted sea salt. War. The changing seasons. And he almost remembered. His breath caught just a little in his throat. And then he smoothed it all over once more – patted the fresh fall of snow down into the blanket beneath, hiding the footprints left there until everything was seamless and blank once more. Subdued. Manageable._

_‘We never should have agreed to this. We should have stood our ground and left Shoma in the hospital; he doesn’t need to be listening to this.’ Mihoko’s grip on his hand was fierce, but Shoma’s fingers remained limp and listless – it only seemed to make her ferocity intensify._

_‘If he is listening to this – this is a shell of a person, by all accounts. I’ve seen the readings, Mentor Higuchi, and I am not naïve enough to dismiss them as “shock”, or whatever word you are trying to use for it.’ Shoma turned his head almost imperceptibly, something stirring inside his chest again for just a beat – embers of a fire not yet rained out. It was like the morning after a bonfire, the smell of smoke still lingering in the damp-heavy air, a reminder that people had stood there the night before, laughing and carefree and oblivious to the approach of morning. Shoma could still see the indentations in the grass._

_‘And yet you were still naïve enough to ask us to bring him here, huh? To subject him to questions and scrutiny and talk of events – of people – he is not yet ready to call to mind? An interesting judgement call. He will hardly sleep, hardly eat…and these are not difficult things. Not difficult like words, like memories can be difficult things. What is so urgent you couldn’t wait – wait until his family are here with him at the very least? Instead you summon us all here for a needless interrogation, looking for answers he doesn’t have – answers none of us have. This is something senseless, and you are trying to apply cold reason.’ Mihoko shook her head, waving a furious, dismissive hand. ‘We should stop all of this: stop trying to heal him, leave him be, give him his time. You put in front of me the person here stronger than Shoma, the person whose voice is clearer and more effectively used – you can’t, such a person does not exist. Hanyu himself would have told you that much if you had taken the time to listen. If you give Shoma time he will give you fight; he may never give you his trust, but he will give you his spirit. This is someone with a voice; let him wait to decide when it is best to use it.’_

_‘Someone with a voice, and yet he lets his mentors speak for him? This isn’t some schoolboy misunderstanding which can be cleared up with a letter home and a promise to learn from the mistakes made, Mentor Higuchi. You can’t blame us for treating him like a child without agency, only to mother him and speak on his behalf.’ Shoma blinked, turned his head just a little more, and stared glassily at the minister and his aide and their still-poised recorder in the centre of the boardroom table. Mihoko squeezed his hand again._

_‘I merely speak from my heart, with what I know, with lessons I have learned from years of watching our country wander blindly into destroying another’s light; I saw you try to box Hanyu in a hundred times, and he became wild, as all wounded animals will when cornered. You made Hanyu into a myth, into a thing to be depended upon without reason or patience or compassion – a creature with so much agency he had none, because he had no room in which to simply be a boy, to falter and to grow, he was everything already and he had to act it. There was never time for mistakes, and there was always someone around every corner to be disappointed by any move he made, nothing ever good enough. I will not sit idly by and watch you try to do this to another – to make Shoma feel like some replacement, some second choice, to try to fit him into your ridiculous mould, be that a mould in Hanyu’s image or in the image you wish Hanyu could have met. I am not speaking for Shoma, I am speaking for Hanyu, whose voice was always so strong but so rarely listened to carefully. I am speaking for myself, as someone who hates to see people suffer these kinds of futile expectations and the pressure that comes along with them. And, of course, I am speaking for Japan. For a country that has lost something, and must be given time to understand what and why, not force-fed more myths and legends and told to create new gods on whom they should place all their hopes and fears and dreams.’_

_Shoma’s throat felt tight, and he looked down, eyes flickering closed for just a beat. Behind his eyelids, a waiflike twist of limbs and wild hair shimmered out of the black, grew wings and stretched out a hand, long, cool fingers reaching up towards him hopefully, and Shoma quickly opened his eyes again. Tracy rubbed his back, as though she knew._

_‘Mentor Higuchi, you would do well to remember that Hanyu was never any of your concern, and that Uno is far from your only charge here. Remember you have a duty beyond the one whose needs may seem the most pressing now, and reacquaint yourself with the bigger picture beyond Foundation walls.’_

_‘Forgive me, but there is no bigger picture than the wellbeing of one of my charges. Without them? There is no hope of keeping magic alive and well-used in this world. I can do my duty by all my charges and still understand that Shoma requires a different kind of attention – I let those I work with guide me always in this way, and you would do well to do the same.  Take the lead from Shoma himself instead of disregarding his intelligence – stop forcing some idea of what is proper on to someone just as human as you are, who simply happens to possess a gift you do not understand. Not everything is about the presentation, the surface, the power; some things are superior because they are rough and unfinished and human. Some power is governed entirely by the most human thing of all: the heart. You think Shoma and Yuzuru had power in common because you don’t look beneath the surface. Their greatest similarity? They both act in honesty, in a way which is true to themselves. They follow their hearts, their humanity, not simply their power or the expectations of others. That should be valued, not shamed – learn that lesson from Hanyu and don’t repeat the same mistakes by trying to force Shoma into creating some role that should no longer exist. Let Shoma be Shoma, on a stage of his choosing. Trust his heart on when to speak and when to hold his tongue – and stop acting as though, because he is quiet, he is somehow not present, not bright and intuitive and always listening. He is Shoma, not Yuzuru – you feared Yuzuru when he was loud, you should fear Shoma when he is silent, that is where his sharpness lies, always hearing the things other people dismiss as unimportant.’_

_‘Shoma?’ Tracy said, soft and cautious, and he kept his eyes on the window, following the paths of the raindrops as though there might be answers in them. Tracy sighed and glanced up at Mihoko, who shrugged helplessly, looking back across at the minister and his aide and tucking her hair behind her ear, prim and coolly professional, her eyes full of steel and disapproval._

_‘There is no bigger picture than what is best for Shoma right now: on this point, everyone here should be agreed.’_

_‘A sentiment you can afford to hold, perhaps, but not one that will appease the Japanese people, should the Alliance break this story before their own ministry. This is bigger than Uno, Mentor Higuchi. Bigger than Hanyu, even. This is the future of our country and of the world. If there is no power or hope or survival left in either one of these boys, the Japanese people deserve to know.’ Mihoko huffed out a humourless laugh, rolling her eyes skyward._

_‘And tell me what use any of these games are to the Japanese people, huh? What good has your pushing and prodding and press management done for any of us? Hanyu isn’t here and Shoma is under interrogation, whilst the rest of Team Japan sit and cry for a friend the rest of the world barely knows exists, because you forced him to hide that side of himself in favour of an impossible image. The time for politics has passed – now it is a time for humanity. A time for you to finally understand that what you did to Hanyu must not be allowed to happen again. You may underestimate Shoma if you choose, but don’t expect him to go quietly; don’t assume he will be a pawn in your games just because his objections are not so vocal as Hanyu’s. Where Hanyu talked you down? Shoma will simply dig in his heels. Good luck getting  your answers from someone sharp enough to realise you are not worthy of a single word.’_

_‘Mentor Higuchi, need we remind you who pays for your position here? Funds your work and provides your wages? Be very careful who you challenge, and remember the duty you have to your country in your role here.’ Mihoko scoffed, waving an airy hand, her other hand still holding his tightly, forceful yet somehow comforting._

_‘Me? I will work for free if I must. I’m sure I will find means to pay my way if it comes to it, have no fear of that. My only duty is and always will be to my charges – I have no concern for anyone in government or otherwise, until their interests come into conflict with those I am charged to look after. In looking after them, in keeping them from your high, ridiculous hopes and your endless headlines? That is how I will do my service to my country, of that much I am certain.’_

_‘Mentor Higuchi, please realise who you are talking to and the consequences of treating a government minister with this contempt; I will make allowances for the emotion of the situation, but don’t imagine for a moment that this insubordination won’t make it into our report on the way things have unfolded here.’_

_‘Then report me; I make no apologies,’ Mihoko shrugged. The minister pursed his lips, turning his beady eyes to where Brian was sitting rubbing his hands over his exhausted face._

_‘Mr. Orser, you might do well to remind your staff that their work here depends on the support of governments such as ours – especially in light of recent events.’_

_‘My staff?!’ Brian huffed out a laugh, but there was something thready in his voice that made Shoma wonder if he was actually close to crying. ‘I don’t have staff – I have colleagues, friends…brilliant people who I believe are entitled to feel hurt and angry and upset and…pretty much every emotion on the spectrum right now. And that emotion doesn’t make their view of things any less valid either, for the record.’_

_Shoma swallowed, closing his eyes and drawing in a steady breath; beyond the windows the birds called out, and when he looked again they were dipping and swaying and fanning out, scattering, some up towards the blankness of the sky and some down into the angry sprays below. His eyes caught on the rocks again; hard and dark and glossy, brutal reminders in fearsome polished jet. He turned away, looking down instead at Mihoko’s hand, gripping his own so tightly now her knuckles were white. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew there was fear and fire and heartbreak in her, regret in her rage and defeat even in her defiance. It was messy and contradicted and he understood it better than he wanted to. She glanced at him with a tight smile before regarding the minister with a measured glare._

_‘I am no one’s staff, Minister. Not Mr. Orser’s, and certainly not yours. But, if I must be punished in order for Shoma to be given his time? Then so be it. I will not be passive in this matter until Shoma tells me he is ready to tell his own story in his own words, though. It is that simple.’ Shoma wet his lips and glanced back out towards the birds, watching them fight between the wind and the waves. Something low inside him ached. It felt like stumbling; like a sudden reminder of gravity. The minister cleared his throat. Shoma flinched back from the sound with a drunken stagger of slow realisation; his head was treacle and cotton wool, but his chest ached again, like the toll of a distant bell._

_‘Mentor Higuchi-’_

_‘It started on the Friday night.’_

_He felt everyone’s eyes come to rest on him immediately as he cut the minister off with raspy determination, but he didn’t look up, his gaze still focused on the waves below, churning and wild and callous as they crashed into the rocky beach, sending up sprays of foam that reached up towards the cliff like dancers pushing up into the air just to fall back down with desperate grace. Shoma drew in a deep breath. ‘It started on the Friday night, up on the roof.’  His voice was quiet and scratchy, cracked and parched from lack of use; the air felt dry in his lungs, and the sound of his own breathing buzzed through his skull, but there was a decision in his words, the kind of calm that came with knowing the worst had happened but still not being able to regret a moment of what had gone before it, not even as he watched the run of the pain seep into his skin. ‘We were messing around and running wild because we could, I guess. I knew something was bothering him – like he was starting to figure it out but he wasn’t ready to. So I let him laugh it off…because someone had to let him laugh it off for once, someone had to let him start a riot with the sound of his voice and turn the stars into stories.’ Shoma looked down, closing his eyes for a beat. ‘He’s good at that. Or…he was good at that.’ He shook his head slightly. ‘Maybe it started before that Friday though – in the back of the bus in Singapore or the night we met. The second we said hello. Maybe it started when I was seven and I dreamt about lightning for a week straight. Or at some sunrise a million years ago when people started finding dumb ways to waste magic for the first time. I’m not sure which would make the most sense, I guess. Because me and Yuzu didn’t really have beginnings together – everything always started in the middle somewhere. Maybe because he always knew he didn’t have the time to be any other way or…or maybe it was just that all these shortcuts were wired into us. We recognised each other, always. Not just power but…who we are.’ Shoma pursed his lips, looking up into Mihoko’s face with slow, heavy-lidded curiosity. ‘I told him I would never let him haunt me, that I wouldn’t turn him into a ghost. But…inviting him in means inviting all the rest of it in. All the feeling. All the almosts and the never-agains. Around him I got used to living with my heart in my throat; now I can hear it every time I speak. I don’t like the sound. It reminds me of the parts I wish hadn’t happened.’_

_Mihoko nodded slightly, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear with protective gentleness._

_‘You don’t have to speak if you’re not ready, Shoma.’ Shoma shook his head slightly, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a moment and letting the image of unfurling wings and twisting limbs briefly light up the darkness once more._

_‘I want to remember. I want to know I can.’ He blinked his eyes open, and the gold outline disappeared in a flutter of feathers at the edge of his vision. ‘If I invite him in like I promised, I have to invite everything else in with him. And it’s going to hurt. But I’m not going to lose him a second time over, you know? You can’t lose the words you’ve already written into your story; you shouldn’t tear out the pages unless you’re sure those chapters don’t matter – but Yuzu’s chapters will always matter to me. He got inside the pages of my story. He can live forever there, if he wants to. Or…I know he wanted to. Hoped he would. It just…it hurts, because he mattered – but I have to let him matter because that’s the only way to never lose him. Permanence is a feeling, not a touchable thing, I think.’_

_‘A memory can go with you anywhere, Shoma,’ Mihoko told him quietly, her smile small and understanding. ‘Maybe some might say it is like trapping fireflies in a jar – the light must eventually fade. But I don’t see it that way. I think we turn those we treasure into suns inside ourselves, our heart the moon’s cool surface, which sometimes needs the reflection of that remembered light in order to truly reveal itself to us. We will love people, and lose people…we will long for some people unfailingly. But there is no harm in admitting we carry them with us. You haven’t trapped them in your jar, you have set them in among your stars.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile._

_‘Yuzu would like that,’ he whispered. ‘It sounds like something he’d believe in. It sounds like something he would want other people to believe in too.’_

_‘You have set him in your stars, huh?’ Mihoko asked, and Shoma nodded slightly._

_‘Right in the centre of the sky. Where he can get the most attention and disrupt everyone else’s gravity.’ Mihoko made a gentle, laughing sigh._

_‘I think he would rather like that too.’ Shoma let out a high, breathy sound which was somewhere between a laugh and a wound._

_‘Oh, he would love that. All eyes on him and chaos everywhere and…me admitting he was at the centre of everything in my universe no matter how ridiculous and embarrassing he could be.’ He rolled his eyes, lips twisting in a grimace of a smile. ‘Words can disappear but…not what they meant to you. People are the same. And Yuzu…had a lot of words and a lot of person in him, I guess.’ He looked down at his hands with a soft sigh. ‘It’s funny, right? That someone can change you so much by…not actually changing you but just…giving you the space to forget how to be anything other than yourself? To bring everything in you so close to your skin that suddenly it fits better, and you shake off all the other stuff and just…breathe. It makes you different to be seen that clearly – it makes you be yourself even more, change even less. That’s a mess, I know, but…I’m a mess. Yuzu is a mess.’ He swallowed. ‘Was a mess.’ Tracy was rubbing his back again in firm, sure circles – deliberate but somehow absent, as though she were as much trying to comfort herself with the action as she was him. ‘No. He_ is _a mess. He’s still a mess in my head – he can be a mess forever there.’ Shoma lifted his gaze, looking over at the minister with solemn darkness in his eyes, his expression full of distaste and disappointment and a heavy sort of resignation. His lips twisted into a tired smile. ‘Not that you care, right?’ He pulled at the skin of his bottom lip, wrinkling his nose slightly and looking back out through the window for a beat, drawing his shoulders in ever so slightly. He took a moment to feel the rough, gravel edges inside, where everything had been dredged out of him; inside his chest he could feel the jagged edges of cliff rock and the cries of seabirds. ‘You’re asking the wrong questions, you know.’_

_He looked back at the minister with a blank, open expression, a hint of a sneer in his eyes but all the tension absent from his features. The minister’s lips twitched, the barest hint of irritation briefly flickering in his eyes and disappearing again the moment he caught the stubborn ferocity in Shoma’s gaze._

_‘And what might the right questions be, Shoma?’ he asked coolly, and Mihoko lifted a warning hand, pointing a perfectly manicured fingernail in the minister’s direction as she frowned fiercely, shushing him. Shoma’s lips twisted to one side in a sad almost-smile, and he looked up at her quietly._

_‘It’s ok,’ he whispered. Mihoko nodded slightly,  folding her arms._

_‘Ok,’ she said softly, looking back at the minister for a moment before meeting Shoma’s eyes once more. ‘You’re sure, yes?’ Shoma gave her a small nod, and he caught the brief twitch of her lips as she nodded back, something sad yet infinitely proud shining in her eyes, like she had somehow seen this moment coming all along. He glanced over at the minister, still biting at his bottom lip but keeping his gaze steely, the war in him coming closer to his skin; no waterfall of impish lightning cheered on his rebellion from the edges of his consciousness this time, but there was still an echo of it left inside Shoma’s chest somewhere, the snow-fall light trill of a memory of peal-of-bells laughter and firework smiles. Shoma let the blow of the would-have-been land just below his ribs with a faint wince, and Mihoko rubbed his arm._

_‘You keep asking did he write this down or tell me that. Was there a neat solution in a notebook somewhere, a formula he came up with. Was there a plan. Did the plan go wrong or did he think all this was the answer somehow. What time did you find this out. Where were you when he told you that. You’re expecting me to reduce him to an equation – like he’s just another science, an experiment that went wrong and now we have to make notes and adjust before starting again. What you want is something that makes all your forms easier to fill in and your press releases easier to write. A headline and a moral to the story, something to make the chaos make sense. But the problem with that is…that’s not Yuzu. It never was and never will be.’_

_Shoma looked up slowly then, meeting the minister’s gaze intently. ‘You think that aura of his and that massive power is where it began and ended – you think people were drawn to him because he was unreal and brilliant. And…that’s part of it, I guess. But…the real reason he made people hope, the reason it mattered so much that he could do everything he did? It was because he was human. He was a disaster. He laughed at terrible jokes and danced like a six-year-old. It’s because he always had bruises on his elbows and could whine until you wanted to throttle him. Because he rolled his eyes when he knew he was wrong and cried when no one was looking. Because he was fractured inside but still hoped for stuff. Because he was walking chaos but he could still pull it together when it mattered. He was a wounded, whingey pain in the neck, and he could click his fingers and make stars dance. He was a walking contradiction, and that made him human. Improbable, ridiculous…but still real. What’s the point of pinning your hopes on a legend? Pin it on flesh and blood and vulnerability – people needed to know it was possible to have scraped up knees and a too-loud laugh and still be strong enough to save the world…it made them think maybe they could save the world too, in their own ways. If you ever bothered to pay attention to who he was – if you actually listened when he talked instead of assuming he was making trouble by not following your script – you would know that Yuzu…was unreal and determined and powerful. But flawed. He was an idiot. And he was amazing. He worked himself into the ground to be good enough, to justify every breath he took…he practiced his speeches and edited every action he made because he didn’t want to let people down by giving them anything but the best version of himself. And sometimes, if he thought people needed it? He’d even give them a version of himself that didn’t even really exist. I guess it worked so well even the people who hate him fell for the lie. I mean…you obviously buy it, right?’ He quirked an eyebrow, and the minister narrowed his eyes at him. Shoma smiled sadly, shaking his head and looking back out of the window, pressing his tongue to the raw spot at the corner of his lips. ‘Whatever. People who really cared about him got it. That the real best version of him was flawed and dumb and annoying…and kind to a fault and always hoping. All push and honesty and compassion, and full of stories that he could make mean as much to you as they did to him just by smiling a certain way. The best version of him was studied-out and sleep deprived. And he tasted of faith and kept promises.’ Shoma glanced at the minister with a hint of a smirk. ‘It’s ok – I’m fine with you not knowing that one first hand. But…you can put it in your report if you like.’ He shrugged, a dark shimmer in his eyes as he saw an uncomfortable twitch in the muscles of the minister’s cheek. ‘I don’t know what tick-box it goes under but…Yuzu could kiss like spring. Spring covered in marshmallow lip balm, anyway. His energy was all midnight storms and music, and every time he moved it was either a fury of limbs or pure choreography, but never anything in between.’ Shoma pursed his lips, moving his chin just slightly so it was tucked against the collar of Yuzuru’s jacket. Bergamot and jasmine, and the rose and citrus of that last night – morning – in the garden. ‘I can’t answer the questions you want me to answer because even if Yuzu told me everything? He probably started it halfway through. He probably made some awful note in the margins of a page somewhere and swore he’d come back to it later. He probably left it in the library or my backpack or his pocket, and thought he’d given me enough to go on that I’d figure it out for myself in time. And maybe he’s right and I’ll find it one day…the fragment of whatever it was he almost-knew but didn’t get until it was too late. I believe in him still – I’ll always have faith that whatever he did, however it looks or feels? He had his reasons. And I know, somewhere in between the words he was saying? Were the words he meant. But Yuzu didn’t just tell you stuff. He started stories his stories in the middle most of the time, and went off on wild tangents. He’d stop to laugh at his own joke or watch the butterflies take off on the wind. He’d let you find your own meaning in the things he said and he wouldn’t put words in your mouth. He’d listen to a hundred perspectives and then go and research something into the ground…but still only tell you just enough for you to start to figure your own version of it out. I’d find him staring at his phone at five in the morning, and when I was telling him to sleep he was probably spilling the secret to the universe, but I was too tired to care and he’d know it…so he’d just thread in the idea of a thing, an outline for me to fill in later. You think it’s as easy as what you read about us in our Foundation papers and the research department notes but…Yuzu and me? We’re people first. This is my story too, and I say his part was too complicated to make sense of in time for your soundbite to make the news back in Japan. My power is gone, even the parts of it you didn’t know I had. And my best friend is gone too, I guess. And all I have left is my words, in my own order and seen my own way. I can maybe string together some of Yuzu’s half-finished theories but…only seen through my eyes, not laid out like some big, perfect solution for the ages. These words won’t work inside your questions. Because Yuzu didn’t tell me why, and he didn’t tell me what to do if it went wrong. I don’t think he ever knew for sure what he was going to do until he did it, honestly – he didn’t have the time to pass any instructions on or whatever it is you expect me to know. He definitely didn’t tell me how to save the world…if it even could be saved without him to do the saving.’ Shoma closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut and squaring his shoulders just slightly. Mihoko gave his arm another squeeze. ‘He didn’t tell me any of that stuff, because I was just a person to him too…and it was always late when it was the two of us, and all we had was this weird window of time that we just knew was…going to end up being the “before” of something. By the time he had to think about things in any other way, it was too late…power wasn’t enough anyway and…we got separated. I don’t know a lot about what happened that day, honestly. It’s patchy, like my head won’t let me remember because of everything remembering will bring with it. I don’t know the why or how, or what it was he wasn’t telling me. I don’t know why he decided to do what he did and I don’t know why I couldn’t stop it. But…it doesn’t change the fact that…I knew who he was, not just who he had to try to be. And I knew he was better than what you wanted to make him. I can remember the sound of his footsteps on the stairs…but everything after that is kind of hazy…so as for the things you want to know? I don’t think there’s much chance of me having them to give. Only these weird moments that keep coming back to me…trying to tell me something I don’t understand yet. And I don’t know how to twist the words of this fragmented story around to make it all his fault when it wasn’t, to make him a liar or a failure or a fool – that part’s your job, I guess, but don’t expect me to sit in front of the press and repeat the lies, or make myself out to be the person coming to take his place.’_

_Shoma lifted his gaze to meet the minister’s, a quietness coming over his expression but a storm still lingering in his eyes; he felt hollow and carved-out inside, could still feel the rough husk where his power and the full force of his emotions ought to be, but something was fighting its way through his system, muffled like he was hearing it from under the waves. The thought made him shudder, and he dug his nails into his palm to keep the wince from his face. ‘I’m not going to answer your questions your way, so you can stop looking at me like that – it’s not going to happen. I’m not your puppet any more than Yuzu was; just because I’m quieter doesn’t mean I’m less stubborn. It doesn’t mean I’m any less sure of my own opinions. Or any less set against yours. This is my_ _story. My_ _Yuzu. Indignant, impatient, idiotic Yuzu. Ineffable. Indelible. With his stupidly big heart and his honesty. No form-filling, no press releases – just who he really was. Is. Whatever.’ Shoma drew in a hiccup of breath, determined not to give in to the tears building in the back of his throat. ‘I could answer your questions if I missed stuff out, I guess…but I wouldn’t be happy with what I’d told you. I’d feel like I’d lied, like I hadn’t done Yuzu justice. Because there is no explanation or neat way to tidy all this up. It’s a mess because both of us are only human…we got scared like anyone else would, we got overtaken and we didn’t have the chance to adjust. We did our best, he did his best…it just…wasn’t enough to tie everything up in a neat enough fix-it. And no one is to blame for that. Only the people who chose the lines they were willing to cross for the sake of money and power. You can’t explain this all away with a quick survey and a rushed-out statement to the press. You should wait. You should try to look deeper before you tell the world what happened – if you don’t even understand it, how do you expect everyone else to?’_

_‘We don’t expect them to understand, Shoma – that is why we drew up these questions, to simplify the process. And if you answer them, here, now, and leave the rest to our discretion? Then this will be over. If you handle this properly and work over your answers with us to shape them in advance? We can simply move on to our press release from there, and you will be free to go much sooner, and without the looming threat of the media frenzy that could result from this being leaked without our careful management. Our way is quick and seamless, with no need for repercussions or recriminations upon you once the tabloids have hold of the story.’ Shoma’s eyebrows drew together just slightly, and he narrowed his eyes at the minister; he missed the sound of thunder more than ever in that moment, but he felt the memory of it press at his ribs and send a shiver down his spine._

_‘You want me to lie? To smooth this over by being false and manipulating myself onto Yuzu’s stage, into his place?’ The minister pursed his lips, reaching out to nervously fidget with the recorder, as though he were making sure it was definitely not running yet. Shoma’s frown deepened._

_‘We don’t expect you to be dishonest, of course. But…we could work through your answers with you. Constructing a narrative for the press is vital, Shoma – and we must act quickly to make sure it is our narrative which is reported first, before other governments and agencies attempt to manipulate events and spread panic.’ Shoma let out a raspy, humourless bark of a laugh, widening his eyes in mildly overwhelmed disbelief._

_‘Wow.’ He shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes and glancing out of the window with a huff of breath. ‘I guess that explains why Yuzu thought you sucked at this job, huh,’ he added in a sly mutter, catching the minister’s colour-drained, furious face out of the corner of his eye and feeling not even a flicker of fear or remorse. ‘You get that this is a life we’re talking about, right? A person. Don’t you understand you can’t reduce him down to a bullet point and dismiss everything he stood for because it didn’t fit into the time you set aside for it, the neat lines you drew up in advance? This is Yuzu. Messy, dumb, stubborn Yuzu: he was never going to fit in your box willingly, and I’m not going to be the one to make him now.’_

_‘Mentor Higuchi, perhaps it would be in your charge’s best interests if you advised him how much more quickly this will be over if he cooperates with us. If he wishes to pay tribute to Hanyu, I would suggest that taking up the mantle of his more rebellious nature might not be the best way, in light of recent events – that perhaps it might be better to emulate his sense of duty and maturity instead, no?’ Mihoko turned to look at the minister with an expression which was somehow terrifyingly pleasant, her grip on Shoma’s arm tightening just slightly._

_‘And what exactly do you intend to do if he doesn’t follow your misguided attempts at damage control? Then you will have no story at all to give the press – and Hanyu will remain the beloved figure of legend he always has been, no matter how you manipulate the facts. You may as well take the truth, if that is all Shoma wishes to offer you. None of it will change Hanyu’s place in the public’s affections.’_

_‘Then perhaps now would be an opportune moment to remind all of you that it is not only mentors whose places here we hold influence over; the Japanese government has long reserved the right to revoke the sponsorship of any individual’s place at the Foundation, should their conduct – or indeed their power – fall short of what is expected of those who represent our nation on the world stage. There is good grounds on both those scores for Uno to be returned to Japan with immediate effect; I’m sure a flight could be swiftly arranged, and the press informed of his…“difficulties” with his power, no?’ Shoma’s glower darkened._

_‘You wouldn’t dare – not now, not with everything else you’d have to tell the press about why you were doing it.’_

_‘Actually, now would be the perfect time. Mentor Higuchi is right to say that Hanyu’s star will continue to burn bright; brighter than your own, perhaps, and certainly, with the benefit of sympathy and emotion, brightly enough to bury your dismissal effectively. Hanyu’s legacy of securing Japan’s status on the world stage in these matters will be upheld, for a long time. The choice is yours whether you help us to continue what he started or whether you hinder our efforts by forcing us to withdraw you from the picture.’_

_‘Ok, you need to hold it right there,’ Tracy said firmly. ‘I have never allowed any government to remove one of our kids on a whim like that, and I don’t intend to start now. Shoma is family here. This is where he belongs for as long as he wants to belong – and if it comes to it? I will take him in myself if I have to, if it stops you bundling him onto a plane and abandoning him to the mercy of the tabloids. He has enough to deal with, without you uprooting him and selling him out to the press.’_

_‘There are plenty of scholarships and research placements available for people like Shoma, believe me; even if you try to revoke his permits and documentation, I will be able to find a way to move funds and find donors. And I will make sure he has a place here as long as he wants it – that is non-negotiable, whether he answers your questions or not,’ Brian said sternly, looking a little more like himself for a moment, something decided and fierce in his eyes that made Shoma think he was holding it together as some sort of apology, his way of trying to make amends with Yuzuru for however he thought he’d failed him._

_‘I believe, Minister, this leaves you as the only one with a choice to make,’ Mihoko put in calmly, smiling her charming, murderous smile at the minister, and a dim wisp of amusement and gratitude caught briefly in Shoma’s throat. ‘Do you want to take Shoma’s considered, thoughtful words in the form he chooses to give them to you, or do you wish to be obstinate and return to your superiors entirely empty-handed? Outwitted by a person you have repeatedly dismissed to them as a lost child?’ Mihoko arched an eyebrow in the face of the minister’s stormy silence, and Shoma’s lips curved into a hint of a smile, just for a second. They had cornered him – they had cornered him, and Shoma wished he could close his eyes and wrap his sunlight around unseen lightning to let Yuzuru know._

_Mihoko’s expression gentled then, and she turned her gaze to Shoma, her eyes sweet and soft as she studied his face thoughtfully. ‘Do you still want to do this, Shoma?’ she asked, kind but somehow still matter-of-fact, and Shoma swallowed down the lump in his throat, giving a small, slow nod in reply. He looked down at his hands, tugging at the worn-soft fabric of Yuzuru’s jacket sleeves, too long on him and still wildly comforting. He smiled a devastated, wistful smile_

_‘It started on the Friday night.’ He wet his lips and felt a tear slide down his cheek, stinging the scrubbed, sore skin there; he brushed it away with a stretched-out jacket cuff and winced as he felt himself fading the scent of bergamot out of it with the rawness of his skin and the rough edge of salt. He bit at the inside of his cheek and blinked the tears determinedly away, knowing once he gave in to them he wouldn’t stop and feeling – vehemently – that now was not the moment to break. ‘Yuzu was restless and distracted; silly, you know? Like all he wanted was to not have to think for a while, to play at being free. He wanted the kind of Friday normal people get, the kind he hadn’t had since he was a kid.’ Shoma swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘And he wanted to spend it with me. To mess around and laugh and waste time in the best way, having fun together, just the two of us.’ He blew out a breath, blinking open his eyes. Outside the window, the birds were calling desperately to each other over the whip of the waves below, some climbing up above the clouds in unsteady chains as others battled to keep their course. Shoma looked back at the minister with a hollow smile. ‘It was the Friday night before everything went to hell – and we both knew it, I think. But all Yuzu wanted to do was run wild and steal my fries…’_

 

***

 

There was a dreamlike quality to Friday nights at the Foundation, once the sun had gone down and everything was cool and quiet and unreal; the moonlight would reflect up off the ocean, the sound of the waves would wash over the glass and the heavy, heady peace soaked into everything, absorbing into skin and bone and fingertips. Those who wanted chaos and distraction and too much to drink would disappear off into the dim lighting and loud music of the late-night venues that littered the far perimeter of the Foundation complex, drifting away in clouds of laughter and glitter in boisterous groups who would dance down the path in dreamy slow-motion as the sun went down, leaving the rest of the Foundation starlit and still in their wake. High up above the rough waves and trails of seafoam, above the courtyard’s treetops and the low-roofed buildings which followed the cliff’s outline back from the rocks, the gentlest of breezes stirred the air, making the lights below shimmer and wink in neat, sequin starbursts, flicking and distant, like they existed a world away. Shoma narrowed his eyes against the sharp cool of the air as it whispered through the slight gap in the glass partition, feeling it ruffle his hair as he tipped forwards just slightly in order to lean into the roar and rush of the ocean below. The rocks peered up out of the waves, cold and hard amidst the trails of froth and foam and moonlit blue swathes of silk; he shivered slightly and sat back, resting his chin on his hand and picking idly at his fries, bored, heavy-lidded and self-conscious.

 

The Constellation Café was usually one of the busiest places at the Foundation, a hubbub of noise and confusion and dizzy conversations that always smelt of caramel and coffee and autumn rain. It was popular with everyone at the Foundation, not just the creative division of the research department whose building the café made its home in. The tall, glossy building of the Creativity Hub looked out over the outcrop of rocks at the cliff’s far edge, where it jutted out one final time before the jagged edges curved around and retreated sharply back towards the land, and the café itself was housed inside the bottom of the domed roof, taking up the entirety of the circular space. The café’s name came from its intricate ceiling: a low, central circle painted midnight blue and inset with detailed LED constellations, framed by darkened glass that allowed a distant view of the real sky beyond – in summer the windows could be rolled down to let in the sun or get a clearer view of the stars, and the café’s twenty-four-hour opening time made stargazing and cocktails a popular weekend pastime. The walls were also glass, a narrow partition between them and the ceiling allowing a breeze to circulate through the space, the seamlessness of the panorama it provided giving the sense of being part of the sky itself.

 

Shoma had chosen to sit at the high, bar-top table which ran around the curved edges of the space, making the most of the unusually quiet night in the café to take up one of the prime spots on the far wall, away from most of the other tables and the café’s counter and with a view of the sea and the haunting late-night glimmer of the edges of the Foundation’s central skyscrapers. There was something hypnotizing about being able to watch the beat of the waves against the ash-coloured rocks below, and the reflections of the moonlight glinting off the Foundation’s polished edges; the room was bathed in blushes of shadow and moonlight, and it sent a shiver of feeling through him, a nostalgia for something he wasn’t even sure he had lost yet dancing through his bones. He tossed another fry into his mouth and gave a small shake of his head, trying to dismiss the feeling. When Yuzuru was close, there was so much of him – so much feeling tied up in him – that the ghosts and whispers that followed the two of them around were easily beaten back, but when Shoma was alone he could hear the fractures of sound, shards of ice and sighing voices. He knew something was coming as well as Yuzuru did, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to re-clench his fists just yet, too content to feel the loose hold of Yuzuru’s cool hands instead, and not wanting to feel the spaces between his fingers again just yet. He sighed, letting his eyes trace the shimmering mirror image of the sky in the Foundation glass; it was like the night was swallowing everything up, shrinking the universe down to just the spot he was sitting in and the swirl of the ocean. He snuck a sly, sidelong glance at the stubbornly blank screen of his phone and quickly looked back up again with a brief wrinkle of his nose. He wished Yuzuru would hurry up.

 

‘Penny for your thoughts.’ Shoma started slightly, turning towards the jarringly incongruous sound of Jason’s bright, friendly voice and the now-familiar feeling of his earnestly fizzing energy as he pulled himself up onto the barstool beside him. Jason laughed at Shoma’s wide-eyed expression, his face crumpling into a mixture of genuine apology and kind amusement. ‘Sorry – I didn’t mean to scare you,’ he laughed, giving Shoma a warm squeeze and briefly laying his head on his shoulder apologetically. Shoma blinked blankly for a moment, before smiling despite himself at Jason’s unique blend of sweetness and force, something gentle and genuine in his actions and his spirit happy, total and cartwheeling.

‘It’s fine,’ Shoma managed with a light shrug, shaking his head and playing with the straw of his drink. ‘It’s not like I was paying attention,’ he added with a sigh and a somewhat rueful smile, and Jason bobbed his head in enthusiastic agreement, his eyes sparkling with moonlight and amusement.

‘Oh, yeah, no: I’d noticed,’ he grinned, resting his chin on his hand and offering Shoma the sort of soft, puppy-dog expression which would have been annoying from anyone else. ‘Let me guess: daydreaming about kissing your MIA boyfriend, huh?’ Shoma pursed his lips in an attempt not to laugh, narrowing his eyes at Jason slightly and wrinkling his nose when he bumped their shoulders together impishly and gave him a small, teasing dig in the ticklish spot just under his ribs.

‘Shut up,’ Shoma yelped, pushing him back and working hard to not fall off his seat as he squirmed away and kicked at his shins, and Jason laughed brightly, putting his chin back in his hands and attempting to smother his smile.

‘You know when you blush like that it’s kind of obvious you’ve been caught out, right?’ he said, quirking an eyebrow, and Shoma pulled a face, sticking his tongue out at him.

‘No one ever said he was my boyfriend,’ he muttered unconvincingly, folding his arms and resting his head on them somewhat huffily, and Jason gave a nod which was part-patience and part-mischief.

‘Of course, because I kiss people I’m just friends with like that in the back of the library all the time too,’ he teased, giving Shoma another small nudge as he groaned and buried his face in his arms. ‘You two are besotted with each other, huh?’ Jason added then, voice gentling a little, and Shoma peeked up at him shyly. Jason offered him a quiet smile in return. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist teasing – because that was some kiss I walked in on. I mean…honestly? I don’t think anyone has ever kissed me like that and…I’m kinda jealous.’ Shoma groaned again, sitting up slowly and blowing his fringe out of his face, tipping his head back for a beat and closing his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Shoma, I promise.’ Jason gave Shoma’s arm a squeeze, and Shoma opened one eye, shooting him a playfully sceptical sidelong glance. ‘Hand on heart,’ Jason insisted, crossing his arms over his chest with a sweetly solemn smile that made Shoma laugh slightly, glancing down with a small nod. ‘I’m just really happy for you, you know? Both of you. You both deserve to have found each other – you guys are good…and you’re good together. That stuff is what keeps the world magic, I think. When good people find each other and make each other happy. I like knowing we live in a messy, chaotic disaster of a universe that still somehow makes it possible for you guys to exist at the same time and actually find each other. It’s…crazy and awesome and precious. But if you need me to play dumb I can do that too – I know it’s rough enough under the microscope of being Yuzu’s friend, and I wouldn’t want to make being his boyfriend into something uncomfortable for you, that’s, like, the opposite of what I want for you. You’re my friend – I’m just excited you’re happy and want to share that with you, but only in whatever ways you’re ok with, you know?’ Jason’s voice had softened to a kind hush, blending in with the distant rush of the ocean and somehow soothing Shoma a little, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he lowered his gaze, pulling self-consciously at the skin of his bottom lip.

‘It’s ok,’ he mumbled. ‘I mean…it’s not like it’s a secret, it just…’ He tipped his head to one side, pursing his lips for a beat as he tried to sort through his thoughts. ‘I guess maybe it still takes me by surprise sometimes.’ He shrugged awkwardly, flicking Jason a cautious glance. ‘He’s always just been Yuzu to me – ever since he first introduced himself as if I would have no clue who he was, you know?’ He shook his head again, looking down. ‘But I know he’s not just Yuzu to everyone. And I know how much he knows it too. So…’

‘So sometimes it’s kinda overwhelming that someone who guards how he’s perceived by others as carefully as Yuzu does would happily go round holding your hand in public, kissing your face in front of his friends and generally not being bothered that most of his inner circle are fully aware he is head-over-heels for you,’ Jason nodded understandingly, and Shoma’s lips curved into an embarrassed smile as he let out a soft hiccup of a laugh.

‘Yeah, and when you put it like that it doesn’t get any less weird,’ he managed, his voice high and tight and edged with a tentative sort of happiness he couldn’t suppress. He looked up, drawing in a deep breath and trying to get a handle of the pulse of sunlight inside his chest as it provoked an answering waterfall of lightning and bells from somewhere in the distance that made him shiver slightly.

‘Good weird though, right?’ Jason offered, and Shoma laughed faintly, pulling a face.

‘I mean…I guess. Most of the time. I like what it means. I like that, every time he does it, it’s like I forget to be self-conscious and I’m just…me. Even if I’m embarrassed, he makes it ok.’

‘But?’ Jason pressed, voice low and gentle as he tipped his head to better meet Shoma’s eyes.

‘But…just because you make a choice to face up to something being temporary…that doesn’t make it any easier to know what you’re going to lose, right? Happiness sometimes means something to us too late, once it’s been replaced by the aftermath. But I already know what the aftermath feels like. And the happiness has only got bigger since then. It’s terrifying. And knowing everyone knows it? It’s like having all my fears on a sign over my head.’ Shoma swallowed. ‘But it’s not like I can stop being…can stop feeling how I do for him,’ he said in a small voice, eyes turning shyly down. ‘I don’t think I could ever stop that even if I wanted to,’ he added more quietly. ‘It’s like…you know when something is just part of how you understand the world? Like it’s something elemental. That’s how it feels. It’s not something that’s a conscious effort, it’s just there. It’s something constant, but not necessarily something I have to make the effort to think about. It just…is. Like breathing. Like feeling the ground underneath you. Like the rocks at the bottom of the cliff – the ocean can’t shake them, they’re there forever, part of the fabric of something bigger…a stable point in something uncertain and vast and…and just…terrifying.’

 

Jason was quiet for a beat, his expressive eyes studying Shoma’s expression thoughtfully; Jason’s face was sweet and open, his eyes always twinkly-bright, but in that moment there was something softer than usual in his gaze, and Shoma could sense how close his healing power was to his skin, the way it almost seemed to radiate off him in the rare moments that he was still. Jason was bubbly and fun and relentlessly kind – but he also listened, understood things about people they missed themselves because he took the time to go out of his way to be there for them, even if they didn’t do the same for him in return.

‘You really do love him, don’t you,’ Jason said softly into the quiet, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Shoma’s arm, and Shoma twisted his lips to one side, staring down intently at his drink. A strange half-smile lit his eyes as he gave the smallest of nods, and his cheeks felt absurdly hot. His chest was full of paper planes, and somewhere on the edge of his consciousness he heard gentle thunder, soft and tired but strangely peaceful. Happy. He felt his own happiness on top of it, and it was almost too much to fit inside his ribs. Jason smiled at him kindly, fond and sympathetic. ‘You really think he’s The One too, huh?’  Shoma tried, but he knew he couldn’t hide the slight stutter in his breath, and he curled protectively inwards, hunching his shoulders slightly and becoming intensively interested in the straw in his drink, jabbing it down into the dark liquid and shaking his fringe so it fell in his eyes like a shield. Jason nudged him lightly. ‘Shoma,’ he said, his voice a soothing hum that spoke to an absence of judgement. Shoma regarded him out of the corner of his eye, instinctively suspicious of personal questions; the expression on Jason’s face reminded him of the day he had come home from school with a raging crush and the residual rush of revelation from his first kiss and his mother had known everything just from looking at him, but hadn’t judged or called him foolish, instead simply saying his name in that same low, gentle, humming way. He pursed his lips and shook his head self-consciously, swallowing hard as he turned his attention back to the straw in his hands, pressing the pad of his thumb into the end of it hard enough to make himself wince. He lifted the thumb and examined the angry red circle left behind with dark, placid eyes.

‘I know it’s dumb,’ he managed, rough and quiet. Jason’s eyebrows drew together ever so slightly, and Shoma waved his hand vaguely, trying to seem dismissive but knowing his own concentrated frown gave him away. The wide-eyed, expressionless look he had used as a shield so many times before was impossible to keep up when he talked about Yuzuru – if he drew up the outline of his face from the darkness of his mind, he felt sunlight open out inside his chest, lightning crackling across his skin. He was starting to get used to living with his heart pressing more insistently at his ribs, with everything he was just that little bit closer to the surface. ‘I know what people would say or…or think. I know all the reasons they would tell me why I don’t know what I’m talking about or…or why I’ll feel differently one day but-’ Shoma sighed. ‘I know. I just…know. It’s that simple – even though it’s not. It’s the same way you can just tell that it was definitely your mum who shut that door downstairs, or it’s definitely your brother’s face you can see in the dark. It’s as fixed as my own shadow: a definite outline, but you can never hold on to it…it’s there even though it’s not, always with you…and it moves and changes and grows with you too. But if you try and chase after it, pin it down? It shifts. You never question that it’s yours, though. And you don’t really imagine a day where you could ever wake up and find it gone.’

‘Shoma.’ Shoma looked back up at Jason, who drew almost imperceptibly closer to him, and something in his energy made Shoma want to open up just a little, to lean forward in return – like when someone opened a window in summer and the rustle of the leaves in the trees outside came in on the breeze to cut through the oppression of the indoor heat. ‘Look, you know, love is…a nightmare, honestly. Because it doesn’t come with a manual. And even though everybody is constantly offering their opinions and their experiences and their advice…you can’t change the fact it’s something that’s just…deeply, deeply personal. One person’s love of their life is another person’s summer fling, you know? Feelings belong to the person feeling them – which means the person feeling them is the one best placed to know how long they’re going to stick around. If you think what you and Yuzu have is something permanent? Something that isn’t going to go away when the sunlight’s faded out and everything’s knee-deep in snow? Then chances are?  You’re probably right. No one knows how you’re put together better than you do, so no one gets to judge you for saying you’re not built to just up and move on and love someone else someday.’ Jason shrugged, offering Shoma a small, lopsided smile, understanding and something which almost seemed like resignation in his eyes. ‘It’s all topsy-turvy and messed up anyway, right? Like, some people expect you to have your whole future figured out by the time you leave high school, then turn around and tell you twenty is too young to know your own heart. As though there is actually any kind of timeline for these things that you can just apply to everyone’s situation, no matter how different it is from your own. I mean…look at Yuzu: he basically decided what he wanted to do with his life – his power – when he was fourteen, and he hasn’t wavered since, not seriously. But me? I got my invitation to come here when I was eighteen, and I freaked out about it – like…is this really me, you know? Theoretically we’re the same; Tracy’s always saying I’m one of her best Healers, Brian puts me in with his top level people all the time, but…I’m still not probably even half as sure as Yuzu was back when he was still in high school, you know? And if I’d been through half the stuff he has…’ Jason rolled his eyes. ‘Some people are built to know things about themselves when they’re four and some people are put together in a way that means they won’t have the answers ‘til they’re forty…and some people are built to think they know only to have it all proved wrong five years down the line. There’s nothing wrong in taking your own time to figure stuff out, I don’t think. And when hearts are involved it’s ten times more messy, with even fewer guarantees or rules. It’s life, and things happen when they’re ready to happen – we can’t change that. We’re all in the same boat, Shoma – and if you ask me we all need to stop pretending to other people like we’ve got it so figured out ourselves that we can judge. There are people out there whose first love is some throwaway thing that ends with the summer. And there are other people who don’t let feelings in easily…and once they do, they run deep enough to leave an impression that lasts a lifetime. And I think that kind of depth of spirit? It can make a first love into the whole spectrum of a person’s understanding of what loving someone even means.’ Shoma’s lips twitched up at one corner, his brown eyes honey-warm and grateful at he shyly met Jason’s gaze.

‘So…you don’t think I’m being stupid and dramatic and losing my head just because my boyfriend’s a good kisser, then?’ Jason laughed – the sound rough but full and edged with a sunny sort of kindness that made Shoma feel just a little less overwhelmed by it all.

‘No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re probably one of the most level-headed people I’ve ever met, actually – being around you always makes me feel more grounded…I can only imagine how much that must mean to someone like Yuzu.’ Jason paused then, something impish suddenly lighting his eyes. ‘But…if what I saw in the library is anything to go on then…that boyfriend of yours actually is a pretty good kisser, so…I don’t know, maybe you’d be justified in being a tiny bit love-drunk, huh?’ Shoma couldn’t help it: he let out a high, huffy laugh, letting his head fall back as he groaned slightly, giving Jason a weak kick.

‘Oh my God, please don’t remind me you saw that,’ he said, his cheeks rash-raw and red but his smile unguarded, and he shoved Jason slightly when he laughed.

‘What?! You looked like you were having fun to me.’

‘Urgh, shut up,’ Shoma complained through another faint laugh of his own, bringing his hands up to his face again. ‘I’m gonna kill Yuzu.’ Jason’s smile softened even as the amusement shone bright in his eyes.

‘No you’re not,’ he said lightly. ‘You might tell him you’re going to, but I’d put money on it ending in him kissing you again. You have it bad, Shoma. And you can’t deny it because I just got you to spill your heart out to me.’

‘You’re really disarming, you know that?’ Shoma muttered, smiling despite himself, and Jason simply nodded, giving a blithe shrug of his shoulders.

‘Some people say manic but…I prefer your way of putting it, it makes me sound like less of a handful.’

‘No, you’re a handful too,’ Shoma said, sipping idly on his drink and casting Jason a sly, sidelong smile. ‘But you’ve met my boyfriend, right? I have a high tolerance for hyperactives.’ Shoma’s smirk was dry but his eyes sparkled, and Jason laughed happily, shaking his head and knocking Shoma’s shoulder.

‘You’re terrible,’ he smiled, and Shoma nodded sagely.

‘Yup. But still you people keep spending time with me so…I must be doing something right.’

 

The two of them lapsed into an easy quiet, both of them watching the relentless moonlit swells of the ocean below. The Foundation lights shifted and blurred – some winking out and others dimming, brief flickers of movement that all spoke to different, distant stories Shoma had no connection with, yet was somehow shown a window to for just the briefest of moments, every light a clue to some person or thing Shoma might never know but that he had briefly watched, existed with for one moment in time on a starry Friday night.  He wondered, idly, if anyone had seen the blurry refractions of the light in the courtyard’s pools as he dipped his fingers in the water the night he had first met Yuzuru, the moment Yuzuru’s light turned off the first night Shoma studied with him ‘til he fell asleep, or the blurry glow of Shoma’s light flicking on when he couldn’t sleep on his first night back from Malaysia as he thought himself in maddening circles. Would strangers look in one day on a moment that turned out to be his and Yuzuru’s last, not realising what they were seeing? Would someone somewhere catch the shift of shadows as Yuzuru threw his head back in dizzy laughter, never knowing it was the final time Shoma was going to hear it – glancing briefly up at their story, their story that meant everything to Shoma, without ever once knowing a thing about how the story had got that far or where it went from then on, without it ever once touching their entirely separate life in any way, because to them it was just a light, a fragment of sound in the distance, meaningless and unimportant, such a big thing to Shoma but something too small for them to consider. And it wouldn’t affect them when it was over – even though the echoes would ring out in every moment after for Shoma, the waves crashing against his ribs every time midnight rolled around without lightning.

 

‘Do you ever start missing something before it’s even gone?’ Shoma asked softly. Jason glanced across at him curiously, and Shoma kept his eyes on the shifting lights. ‘You know that moment when you first see the sky getting lighter after you’ve stayed up all night? Like…you’re in between, still in the middle of everything the night has meant but…it doesn’t seem endless anymore…because now you have proof the dawn is coming.’ Jason’s lips quirked just slightly; it was a brotherly smile, a smile he knew he had given Itsuki before in the past and that he had definitely seen Keiji give him more than once – it was a smile that was somehow fond and despairing, kind but knowing and vaguely amused, as though they were standing at a crossroads where the choice was either to tease or to educate and there was a fifty-fifty shot for the outcome. Jason sighed, a small whimper of a sound coming from the back of his throat as he tipped forwards slightly, half-collapsing against Shoma’s shoulder with a hint of a laugh.

‘Shoma.’ Shoma frowned and Jason shook his head, nudging at him gently. ‘You know you’re doing it again, right?’ Off Shoma’s blank look he rolled his eyes. ‘Ok, so…I know we had, like, an unspoken agreement to pretend that it never happened but…on the drive back from the airport-’

‘Oh,’ Shoma said flatly, eyes turning quickly down to his drink and an uncomfortable red blush returning to his jawline. It occurred to him – with a shiver of anticipation – that when Yuzuru arrived, he would spot the remnants of it immediately and press his lips to it, because he always seemed so enchanted by Shoma’s traitorous blushes. ‘What happened to the words disappearing when the ride was over?’ Jason caught his bottom lip somewhat guiltily between his teeth, offering Shoma small wince.

‘I mean…the very fact you remembered I said that kinda invalidates the agreement, right?’ he hedged, and Shoma laughed despite himself, turning his eyes skywards with a groan.

‘Fine,’ he sighed. ‘But you’re going to need to be more specific about which bit of that you want to go over, because…there was a lot. And I was half asleep and drunk on the relief of car heating and no more ministry officials treating me like I was twelve.’ Jason laughed, nodding slowly.

‘Ok. Fair.’ He sighed softly, knocking his elbow kindly into Shoma’s arm. ‘We’re all guilty of it sometimes, I think: waiting. Patience is fine – it’s a good quality to have. But there is always going to come a point where patience tips over into shutting down. You’re so caught up on the unknowns that you don’t move at all instead of jumping in. Sometimes, if you don’t know what you’re waiting for…’ Shoma swallowed, giving a small nod.

‘Then you just have to go for it anyway,’ he whispered. Jason’s smile was small and quiet.

‘So you _were_ listening.’

‘I always listen. You should try it,’ Shoma muttered, wry but gentle, a tiny smile twitching at his lips, and Jason laughed, widening his eyes playfully.

‘I’ll take a note of that, I guess.’ He jabbed a finger in Shoma’s side, poking him in teasing reprimand, and Shoma’s smirk was sly, his eyes shining as he shot Jason a sidelong look. Jason pulled a face at him. ‘You’re a little terror, huh.’ Shoma shrugged.

‘I try.’ Jason laughed.

‘Look, Shoma…not many people in the world realise how temporary what they have is until it’s too late – but you? You almost see it too clearly. And it gets on top of you sometimes. Which…I get, actually. People think I’m just bubbly, chirpy, annoying Jason all the time but…a lot of that is because…I think being happy is what I want most and I want to appreciate it when I do have it. I want to experience it to the fullest whenever I feel it, you know?’ He lifted his eyebrows at Shoma uncertainly, hopeful and sweetly nervous for his understanding, and Shoma offered him a soft smile in return, bobbing his head faintly and letting his smile widen a little at the palpable relief which radiated off Jason as a result. ‘Shoma: you found this person who might just be the actual love of your life. _And he makes you happy_. “You make me happy” is, like…the purest form of “I love you” there is, you know? That’s the difference between a love that’s…kinda just an idea of something, an outline, a sketch…and a love that is a full-on oil painting, a love that really _means_ something, even beyond the moments when it’s right there in front of you.’ Jason shrugged. ‘If you let yourself get caught up on the worries about the ending, waiting for a moment when it looks safe enough to jump? You could end up missing your chance to ever really appreciate it for what it is. Time is what we get given, but it isn’t ours to keep, you know: it moves on, even for the best Healers it won’t let itself be held back if it doesn’t feel like it. So make the most of the gift for what it is and…make a story out of it. Because a story can stay with you for a long time after the book is closed, I think. And a good story? It’s in the details. The things you’ll miss if you’re too busy holding your breath waiting for time to stay still. Is this person kind to you, even when it’s hard to be? Do they bowl you over with some quietly profound remark when you least expect it and remember what you told them about the time you got in trouble at school for someone else’s mistake? Do they still love you when you’re crying and your face is covered in sniffles and tearstains, or once they’ve witnessed you have a full on conversation with yourself about whether or not you handed in that assignment to your professor? Do they have a certain way of saying you name when they’re tired, do they smell of roses or midnight or fresh-cut grass? Do they cut a fight before it starts by reminding you you’re on the same side and cracking a joke before it gets too serious? These are the things you make bigger, Shoma. Not the endings. Because you said it yourself when Yuzu was missing, right? If you woke up one day and found out you were right – the sky fell down and it was over…but you didn’t even have a story to show for it?  You’d be mad at yourself, right?’ Shoma felt his breath catch, his heart performing a complicated manoeuvre inside his ribcage that made his lungs tighten in to give it room. ‘That would probably hurt more than the ending itself, don’t you think?’ Shoma wet his lips, staring intently at his own hands again and rattling the straw around his half-empty drink. ‘Just…try and remember that, ok? And don’t be ashamed to be an idiot about it – gorge on it, indulge in it. Laugh ‘til your stomach hurts at one of his dumb jokes and remember what it’s like to fall asleep beside him. Give yourself as many moments as you can to turn into stories, Shoma. It’s all anyone can do, ultimately.’ Shoma swallowed, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

‘Dusks and summers always end. But…some of them you end up talking about forever, right? Like…what they meant becomes the thing that holds you together, even when the moments themselves have fallen apart. They become bigger than what they were. You can teach them to be permanent.’

 

There was a pause, a quiet that wasn’t quite settled enough to be comfortable, but that somehow wasn’t awkward either.

‘It’s bergamot and jasmine,’ Shoma said softly into the peace, his voice so low it almost got lost beneath the distant roar of the waves. Jason looked over at him with a small, confused frown, and Shoma lifted one shoulder in a shy shrug. ‘Yuzu. He smells of bergamot and jasmine. And he still loves me even though I keep getting grease and Red Bull over his stuff and falling asleep while he’s still talking.’ He glanced down, chewing at his lip. ‘He’s awful. And amazing. And even though I know you’re right? It just…it feels like a lot to have to give up one day. He’s always going to feel like a lot – too much – to give up, I think. Not that it’s a question; I’m not running away again, I just…it doesn’t take away the fact I’m probably going to have to give him up one day.’

 

Shoma blew out a heavy breath, straightening slightly and trying to blink away some of the haze that had settled over them, casting a curious glance Jason’s way and letting his eyebrows draw together in a faint frown. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ he asked, and Jason laughed, widening his eyes.

‘Thanks, Shoma – it’s nice to see you too, huh?’ he smiled with good-natured despair, and Shoma wrinkled his nose at him, taking a gulp of his drink and rolling his eyes.

‘Sorry. But you’ve gotta admit…it’s not exactly the place to be right now,’ he pointed out, gesturing vaguely to the oddly-deserted café. Jason shrugged, reaching out to steal a fry and stopping with a twinkly-eyed smile when Shoma scowled and pulled them away from him.

‘I quite often take the Friday night shift; it’s nice, you know?’

‘Don’t you want to go hang out with everyone else, though? Wherever it is everyone is always making plans to go on Friday nights?’ Jason hummed thoughtfully, tipping his head to one side.

‘I mean…usually they all end up tumbling in here at about one in the morning anyway, just the right level of drunk and laughing their heads off.’ He shrugged. ‘You know, Shoma, I’ve always found that…the best stories? They kinda happen in the in-betweens, right? The times you didn’t plan for. It’s not impossible to have the best night of your life be something you talked about for weeks on end, but…maybe the best parts of it aren’t the parts you expected, because those quiet, spontaneous, messy moments? There’s no expectations already heaped up on them. They just kind of…creep up on you, full of funnier-than-they-should-be jokes and a thrown-together group of people talking nonsense. And because there’s nothing else to concentrate on? You don’t waste a moment. You’re too happy to do anything but just live it, breathe it and let go. It’s a cliché but…life happens when you’re least expecting it sometimes. The Friday nights I’m still going to be talking about when I’m old? They’ll probably be the ones where I skipped the invite and just…went for a midnight bike ride or headed off to some random party last minute. Or…maybe they’ll just be the nights where my friends stumbled in here at one in the morning and asked me to start making cocktails. Either way? I’m happy for it to be a surprise. I don’t want to know what story I’m going to be telling a hundred years from now, I’m totally cool with just…being pretty sure which people are going to be in it.’

 

Shoma opened his mouth – not entirely sure what he was about to say but feeling oddly drunk on the soft, moonlit feeling of the café and the ease of Jason’s company – when the moment was effectively sliced by the sound of his phone vibrating against the countertop in front of them, the screen glowing with Yuzuru’s name, the message below a string of emojis which to anyone else would be rambling and nonsensical, but, since Shoma could speak fluent Yuzu Gibberish, spelled out clearly to him that his boyfriend had finally secured his freedom from Brian’s Very Important Informational Debriefing with the Japanese and Canadian ministries and was coming to meet Shoma as soon as Javier and Jun stopped pestering him. A stupid smile came over Shoma’s features immediately; he knew it was dumb, he knew it was obvious, but he couldn’t stop it, and Jason let out a low whistle, faintly teasing but somehow more genuinely happy for him than anything else. ‘You love him like a pop song and it’s adorable,’ he beamed, and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.

‘I’m going to pour my drink over your head and tell the owners you’re a terrible waiter.’ Jason laughed, casting him another one of those knowing, sparkling smiles and knocking into his shoulder fondly

‘And on that note? I should probably get behind the counter, huh?’ he said lightly, giving Shoma a quick, impish wink and hopping down from his seat with a flourish. ‘I’ll get your boyfriend’s regular order and bring it over too – so you can take credit and get bonus Thoughtful Boyfriend points when he gets here.’ Shoma smirked.

‘Please; Yuzu is well aware who I am at this point, he won’t buy it for a second,’ he muttered around his straw, and Jason smiled at him, shaking his head.

‘Ah, true love,’ he sighed, all playful, airy dreaminess, and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Go away or I will definitely set Yuzu and his death-glare on you,’ he shot back, smiling through the words, and Jason pulled a face, silly but fond.

‘I don’t even know which one of you I’m more scared of, honestly – talk about power couples, right?!’

‘I’m not even acknowledging that you just said that,’ Shoma groaned, and Jason laughed, sticking his tongue out and ducking when Shoma threw his napkin at him.

‘Don’t make me kick you out!’ he sing-songed.

‘Like there aren’t a hundred other places round here I can go make out with Yuzu,’ Shoma remarked archly, eyes sparkling, and Jason waggled his eyebrows.

‘Like the library? Or was that just very important research I walked in on?’ Shoma scrunched his face up.

‘No comment.’ Jason finally left him behind with a wild laugh and a strangely kind smile, and Shoma grumbled softly to himself, turning back to his phone to smile down dumbly at Yuzuru’s message again. Yuzuru was an idiot, and Shoma was painfully aware he was a goner for him.

 

Yuzuru’s energy always felt different on Friday nights – slow and heavy, but full of a kind of bone-weary contentment that was treacle-thick and sugary, innocent, childlike optimism threaded through it, as though he looked at the weekend ahead like the vast, sprawling thing it had been back when he was still at school and there was genuine freedom to be found for him in the end of a Friday afternoon. It was one of the first things Shoma had learned about Yuzuru, this Friday version of him – he cherished it like it was a prize, like it was the most precious thing he owned, and he liked to get drunk off it second-hand, to let it make his heavy head even sleepier, pulling at his senses and filling him up with cotton wool. But tonight there was something different in the feeling that unnerved him just a little, a frantic, determined edge to it, the usual giddiness replaced by a near-manic air. It was something Shoma had been noticing in him more and more as the week drew on. But Shoma had made no effort to heal it away or smooth it out with his sunlight – he just sat with Yuzuru and listened like he always did, fit himself against his side and nodded and hummed into his back until one or the other of them fell asleep, and he had no intention of changing his mind just because Friday had brought out an unruliness in the feeling that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t going to tell Yuzuru how to deal with whatever he was dealing with by using his power – he had no interest in trying to sun-burn out the wild fragility that made Yuzuru the special, peculiar, magical contradiction he was. He was far more content to feel the manic edge smooth out beneath his fingertips as they kissed, letting it dissipate under butterfly-flutter eruptions of ridiculous laughter and soft, happy sighs, sly remarks and jabs in sides. He liked the idea that he could draw his Friday Yuzu back to the surface just by holding his hand and listening for a while; it was human, something easily definable as his own choice and not some overarching force of destiny.

 

Shoma was startled out of his thoughts by the feeling of someone tapping – bright and quick – on his shoulder, and he jolted slightly, turning to look behind him and frowning when he was met with empty space. And then he felt someone hop up to sit on the high barstool next to his own, reaching around him to steal one of his fries; he could feel the impish grin before he saw it, and he rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself as he turned back the other way.

‘Hi.’ Yuzuru’s smile was dazzlingly impish, his eyes sparkling and wide as he looked into Shoma’s face with unguarded delight, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him, pursing his lips in an attempt to keep back the instinctive grin that was fighting its way to the surface.

‘Are you actually five?’ he asked, pulling the fries a little closer to him, and Yuzuru simply beamed in response, his face scrunching up as he put his hands innocently under his chin and nodded as he finished his fry.

‘Probably,’ he shrugged, licking grease from his lips and quirking an eyebrow at Shoma. ‘Forgive me?’ he suggested, leaning in to kiss Shoma’s cheek, but Shoma quickly ducked out of the way with a sly smirk.

‘What’s in it for me?’ Yuzuru shrugged, reaching across and picking up another fry, eyes twinkling at the vague sense of indignance he caught in Shoma’s expression as he bit into it.

‘More fries…my Friday night…a really good story about Javi and me making the minister want to tear his hair out.’ He lifted one shoulder in a deliberately casual shrug, lips curling mischievously as he tipped his head. ‘Maybe a kiss.’ Shoma pursed his lips for a beat, studying him with dark, devilish eyes.

‘More fries, you said?’ he clarified, his tone deliberately solemn, and Yuzuru laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek and stealing another fry as he sat back. Shoma attempted a glare at him, rubbing at his cheek with his sleeve and kicking his shin with a smirk. ‘I hate you.’ Yuzuru nodded.

‘You tell me, frequently,’ he smiled blithely, reaching out to brush his fingers to the spot on Shoma’s cheek he had kissed. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his expression fond and amused and so focused on Shoma it made his heart press uncomfortably against his ribs. ‘Hi,’ he said again, quietly, leaning in and kissing Shoma on the lips this time, quick and sweet. He lingered for a beat, his forehead pressed to Shoma’s own, and Shoma let out a breathy laugh, lips curving traitorously up.

‘Hi,’ he whispered back. Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled as he let out a small laugh of his own, kissing the tip of Shoma’s nose and then the corner of his lips before pausing and dipping in for a longer kiss, his cool fingers tracing along Shoma’s neck and making him shiver. With his other hand Yuzuru tugged on the edge of Shoma’s jacket – another of Yuzuru’s own, from a summit in China several years ago which bore neat gold trim and all three power classification logos, and as well as jasmine and bergamot it also smelt vaguely of pancakes, something Shoma had been meaning to ask Yuzuru about but had yet to find the moment – and the action coaxed Shoma closer easily, without him even realising he was moving.

 

Although Yuzuru’s touch was gentle, it was also insistent, and Shoma let himself unfold towards it, stretching out his muscles with a soft sigh as Yuzuru briefly dipped to kiss the square of his jaw, the curve of his neck. He could feel the curl of his smile against his skin and he drew himself closer, arching his body gracefully up towards Yuzuru’s as he met his lips once more. Shoma had to brace himself with a hand on Yuzuru’s leg, pushing up and working to hold himself steady without falling, his balance precarious even as he let Yuzuru pull at him with sweet insistence. It was breathless but slow, an elegance to the way the two of them moved together and a patience to Yuzuru’s touch, and Shoma felt himself giving in to the languidness of it, something inside him full-up and weighed-down. It was still a stretch, an effort to reach up to meet Yuzuru’s mouth, but Yuzuru had such a careful, gentle hold of him he still felt certain, safe enough to not have to think about anything but the taste of marshmallows and grease.

 

And then – with the same ease and sinew and elegance as he had drawn Shoma in – Yuzuru gently withdrew, and Shoma’s eyes fluttered open, a confused expression settling on his features that Yuzuru simply smiled placidly at, eyes glittering and something as teasing as it was knowing in his expression as he leant in and stole another fry, raising his eyebrows as though in challenge. Shoma tipped his head slightly, studying him for a moment before rolling his eyes and subtly sliding the fries towards Yuzuru with a small smirk. ‘Fine,’ he sighed, trying to seem put-upon despite the light in his eyes, and Yuzuru smiled back at him warmly, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth and then his lips, before pulling back once more and popping another fry in his mouth with a flourish. ‘It’s bad enough you made me like you, can’t I at least enjoy my own fries?’ Shoma sighed, trying and failing to give Yuzuru a reproachful scowl, and Yuzuru simply let out a bright, electric laugh, scrunching up his nose and nudging the fries back in Shoma’s direction. Shoma stuck his tongue out at him, but he took a fry, trying to hide his smile as Yuzuru gazed at him with undisguised affection and frivolous amusement.

‘You like me, you hate me – but deep down? You love me,’ he shrugged, reaching to take another fry and laughing when Shoma narrowed his eyes at him warningly.

‘You will lose that hand,’ he said dryly, and Yuzuru widened his eyes him teasingly.

‘Why are you so mean tonight, huh?’ Shoma widened his eyes back at him.

‘Why are you so dumb tonight, huh?’

 

Yuzuru pursed his lips, but it wasn’t enough to hide his smile, and Shoma pulled a face at him, sighing and rolling his eyes. ‘Shut up and drink your stupid drink I got you even though it is embarrassing to even be seen with it.’ Yuzuru laughed, nodding slowly and picking up the drink Jason had delivered before Yuzuru arrived; Yuzuru’s regular order at the Constellation Café was an absurd bright pink concoction that contained too much fruit for Shoma’s liking and always stained Yuzuru’s lips a delicious shade of red. Yuzuru picked up his drink, eyeing Shoma like he knew just how often Shoma had thought about this fact; Shoma caught the way his gaze lingered on the raw red patch at his jawline, and it only made his blush intensify. Yuzuru’s own blush rose in his cheeks then – a sweet, high pink, pale and glorious – and Shoma smirked at the way he quickly looked down, his whole energy practically buzzing in Shoma’s ears. ‘Idiot,’ Shoma muttered, kicking his shin, and Yuzuru smiled around his straw, kicking Shoma back.

‘Nightmare,’ he replied quickly, holding the straw delicately with one hand as he swirled it around in his drink with a happy sigh, shooting Shoma a sidelong glance before slowly leaning back in and reaching across to steal another fry. ‘Cute though, at least,’ Yuzuru added then, and Shoma huffed out a laugh, shaking his head slightly and folding his arms, dropping his head down onto them with a happy sigh and giving Yuzuru another small kick for good measure. Their eyes met for a beat, Yuzuru’s expression infinitely fond and Shoma’s smile tired but complete, and Shoma felt some of that manic edge already dissipating, gentling into something calmer but still vaguely dizzy.

 

For a little while Shoma watched him, chose to indulge himself in the first-row view he had to what Yuzuru was like when he found a moment to simply be himself for a while; Yuzuru was always aware of who was watching, and Shoma knew there was no way he was unaware of his gaze, but unlike he did with others, he didn’t straighten his spine or fix his hair, didn’t lift his eyes and force a brighter smile. His eyelids were heavy, his fringe mussed, and he fidgeted with the straw in his drink, pursing red-stained lips together with a contented “Mm” as he savoured the flavour. Messy, rough-voiced and pleasantly buzzing – this was Shoma’s Friday Yuzu, his favourite story, his best friend and the boy who laughed into his kisses like they were magical, precious things. Shoma allowed himself to memorize the way his skin looked in the moonlight, the soft brown of his eyes and the quick movement of his fingers as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin then quickly swiped his lip balm across his lips. He let himself absorb the sound of his sighs and the distant ocean, the heavy feeling of the moment sinking into his bones with inky permanence. He felt exhausted and complete – and he could feel Yuzuru’s lightning twist itself into a low rumble of thunder, the proof he felt the same. It was a sort of happiness Shoma remembered from home, from years ago – when he was a kid, before he got old enough to realise the world was complicated and cruel. It was nice to know that peace was still in his grasp, even with the knowledge of the chaos and coldness beyond their little moonlit world of two.

 

‘You know love is just your brain short-circuiting on chemicals, right?’ Shoma remarked, soft and casual as he yawned lazily, looking up at Yuzuru with heavy-lidded intensity, and Yuzuru paused, fry half way to his mouth as he tipped his head to look at Shoma for a beat, one eyebrow quirked.

‘Ok?’ he said, popping the fry in his mouth and licking his fingers with a vaguely amused smile. Shoma offered him an idle shrug.

‘It’s true,’ he said, quiet and unbothered. ‘It basically comes down to adrenaline, dopamine, oxytocin and serotonin. Like a really-easy-to-get-drunk-on cocktail that every songwriter ever thinks is worth celebrating in a billion overblown metaphors.’ Yuzuru laughed – high and affectionate – and Shoma shot him a dry smile. ‘What? It’s just a scientific fact. It’s in the module I’m working on at university and the section of the book we’re reading said everything but “Love is dumb and you people are all drunk”, basically.’

‘Shoma, why are you such a misanthrope, huh?’ Yuzuru smiled, and Shoma shrugged again. Yuzuru let out another laugh, his head thrown back with such sudden, delirious abandon that his hair flew out wildly around him in a feathery black halo that made Shoma smile.

‘Dumb chemicals,’ he muttered to himself, and Yuzuru put a hand to his chest as he caught his breath, pursing his lips and shooting Shoma a fond glance.

‘So…are you trying to tell me you only spend time with me because your brain is drunk?’ he queried lightly, and Shoma pulled a face, sitting up and reaching for a fry.

‘Well it seems more logical than me spending time with you for your personality,’ he remarked, fighting a laugh when Yuzuru let out a ridiculous, indignant squawk, kicking Shoma’s shin and pulling the fries out of his reach.

‘Shoma!’ Shoma smirked and stuck his tongue out at him.

‘You know you’re proving my point, right?’ he smirked, and Yuzuru pursed his lips. ‘Also those are _my_ fries,’ he added, pulling them back towards him.

 

Yuzuru shook his head, shooting Shoma a soft, fond smile and resting his chin on his hand with a sigh. It was Shoma’s turn to be the one watched now, and he let Yuzuru study him without any of the usual awkwardness he would have felt beneath anyone else’s gaze; there was no need to squirm or fidget or hide, because every time Yuzuru looked at him he was seen so clearly that it somehow shocked him into remembering just how much sense it made to be himself, to feel comfortable in his own convictions. ‘I missed you today,’ he said quietly, picking at the fries and flicking Yuzuru a brief glance, his smile shy but not self-conscious.

‘What, did your brain miss out on its daily dose of chemicals?’ Yuzuru asked, eyebrows raised and lips slightly parted as he shot Shoma a faux-wounded look and nudged at him with his elbow. Shoma pulled a face.

‘Shut up, like I’m not in love with you suddenly every time we’re not in the same room,’ he muttered, smirking when Yuzuru elbowed him in the side and ducking sharply away.  Yuzuru pouted, pulling the fries back towards him and taking one. ‘You’re a terrible boyfriend, you know that?’ Shoma sighed, rolling his eyes and kicking Yuzuru’s ankle lightly, and Yuzuru shot him a breezy smile, popping the fry in his mouth with an idle hum and nodding slowly.

‘Apparently so.’ He looked at Shoma from the corner of his eye for a moment, lips quirked mischievously, before reaching across to give him a light shove, taking him by surprise just enough to almost overbalance him and laughing and tickling at him when he yelped and tried to fight back. The two of them jostled for a moment, elbows digging in sides and new bruises being added to the collections on their shins before Yuzuru finally got the upper hand, his persistent fingers finding the sensitive spot on Shoma’s side where he was the most ticklish and going in for an unapologetic attack that left Shoma half-leaning against him, whimpering with a vague surrender of a laugh and helplessly pushing him away. As Shoma finally extricated himself from Yuzuru’s grasp he aimed a half-hearted kick at his calf and pulled a face at him, reaching across and reclaiming a single fry.

‘Seriously, you’re actually the worst, Hanyu,’ said dryly, smiling even as he shook his head.

‘I know, it says so on my Foundation bio,’ Yuzuru grinned back, tossing another fry into his mouth with a shrug. His eyes were glinting, wild and warm, and Shoma felt his smile widen slightly, a blush rising back to the surface of his skin that Yuzuru spotted immediately and leant across to press a kiss to. ‘Your bio just says “Short, cute, probably evil” though, so I guess we match.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, elbowing Yuzuru away with a shy smile and pulling the fries back towards him.

‘I’m not _that_ short. It’s not my fault I’m not built like someone screwed up a “Build Your Own Giraffe” kit,’ he remarked archly, putting a fry in his mouth and trying not to laugh as Yuzuru let out a yelp of outrage, reaching across to smack at him and pull the fries back once more.

 

After another brief struggle, Shoma had won back his fries, and it was Yuzuru’s turn to flop down in defeat, resting his chin in his hands somewhat huffily and watching Shoma eat with a silly pout on his face that made Shoma smile and nudge the fries back to more neutral ground. The two of them shared a look, both breaking into soft laughter and glancing away again. Yuzuru took a fry and Shoma rolled his eyes. ‘Baby.’ He leant into Yuzuru’s side and Yuzuru smiled slyly, leaning back and kissing the top of his head.

‘You still missed me though,’ he said, knocking their elbows together and pressing another kiss to Shoma’s temple. Shoma pursed his lips, tipping his head back and forth thoughtfully.

‘Yeah, I did,’ he whispered, eyes downturned for a moment before his smile turned sly again, and he flicked a wicked glance Yuzuru’s way, wrinkling his nose in an attempt to seem dismissive. ‘I went studying with Keiji and Satton and I actually got stuff done.’ He pulled a face. ‘It felt unnatural.’ Yuzuru laughed, giving him a weak kick and screwing his face up in protest.

‘Shut up, you get plenty done when you study with me.’ Shoma kicked him back and picked up another fry.

‘There are more study breaks though,’ he pointed out. Yuzuru’s smile turned devilish, and he leant in to press a peck to Shoma’s cheek.

‘You don’t usually complain.’ Shoma tried not to smile, but his blush betrayed him, and Yuzuru laughed, touching a finger to it with a light hum before pressing a kiss there.

‘Go away,’ Shoma whined, elbowing him off, and Yuzuru laughed again, throwing his head back gleefully for a moment before attempting to seem chagrined when Shoma glowered at him.

‘Keiji and Satton are good to study with, at least, huh?’ he offered with a shrug. ‘They study hard and are patient enough to help if you get stuck.’ Shoma gave a noncommittal hum.

‘I guess. Maybe I’m just used to how you work, though. I keep expecting to be tricked into figuring it out for myself and it takes me by surprise when they just tell me stuff outright.’ Yuzuru laughed, knocking fondly into his side, and Shoma shot him a soft smile, rolling his eyes. ‘Whatever. It didn’t last that long in the end anyway – half of Team Japan showed up and it descended into chaos because Nobu and Kana wanted to try and persuade us all to come out with them tonight.’ Yuzuru nodded understandingly, taking a sip of his drink and scrunching his face up.

‘They bug you for being anti-social?’ Shoma huffed, pulling the fries back in front of him and taking one.

‘Worse: they wouldn’t stop pestering me about how I’m boring and awful, until I had to tell them I was meeting you…and then the cooing started.’ Yuzuru hummed understandingly, bobbing his head a little and setting down his drink with a sigh.

‘They were just looking for an excuse to tease you, then,’ he remarked, subtly pulling the fries back towards him and shooting Shoma a smug smile when he narrowed his eyes at him. ‘Kana already knew I was meeting you tonight anyway because I mentioned it when I saw her at breakfast – Mai is an angel and saved me from the worst of it by asking if we could walk to the mentors’ building together.’ He smiled fondly. ‘She didn’t even have a meeting, she just felt bad.’ Shoma laughed.

‘Kazuki saved me. He pretended to have a message from you about meeting up and we went off to his room to study instead. He even lied for me when Waka hounded him…I think her and Kana might join forces to kill him in revenge tonight so…I maybe owe him lunch or something.’ He grimaced slightly, and Yuzuru laughed, waggling his eyebrows and bumping his shoulder into Shoma’s.

‘You need me to be jealous of you and Kazuki and all this alone time you’re getting, huh?’ Shoma stuck his tongue out at him, reaching up to pull the hood of his jacket down over his eyes and sitting back with a satisfied smirk. Yuzuru laughed,  kicking him back in return and shrieking when Shoma shoved him back so hard he almost fell off his seat. ‘Shoma!’ he squeaked, high and ridiculous, and Shoma laughed, letting out a yelp as Yuzuru attacked his ticklish spots with renewed fervour.

‘Leave me alone,’ Shoma protested, elbowing Yuzuru laughingly and reclaiming the fries with deliberate sharpness. ‘I’m not even jealous anymore – he told me all about your Alliance speech planning and how close to crazy you were and suddenly I remembered why spending time with you is actually terrible.’ Yuzuru made a strange, high squeak of protest, his eyes shining with laughter, and Shoma shot him a challenge of a smirk that he regretted almost instantly as he caught a hint of the dangerous smile settling into Yuzuru’s features.

‘Terrible, huh? You wanna see terrible?’ he queried, quirking an eyebrow, and Shoma paused, looking at Yuzuru thoughtfully and trying hard not to smile.

‘Maybe?’ he said, hesitant and mischievous as he bit his lip, and Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled wildly.

 

At first the two of them pushed and shoved again, Yuzuru managing to dance his fingers along Shoma’s ribs with a pressure just light enough to make him shiver, and Shoma managing to land an elbow into Yuzuru’s side in retaliation, the two of them tangling their arms and laughing as they struggled against each other. And then, without warning, Shoma felt Yuzuru hook one of his absurdly long legs around the back of his own, a surprising strength to the action that immediately tipped Shoma’s body towards Yuzuru’s with enough force to make him let out a gasp. His eyes widened just a little as he looked up into Yuzuru’s face, which was suddenly barely an inch from his own, and he felt his breath stutter, his lungs clenching and his heart turning itself over in the limited space inside his ribcage. He felt lightning running through his whole system, and Yuzuru’s lips twitched in a barely-there, dusky-pink smile; Shoma could feel his eyes roaming his face, could feel the path he traced across his features, goosebumps rising up along his arms as Yuzuru’s cool fingers ran reverently along his jawline, his other hand finding Shoma’s power mark. Shoma’s eyes flickered closed as Yuzuru pressed his thumb firmly agains the gold lines, and he let himself feel how close Yuzuru’s breath was to his skin, smiling slightly when he felt a stutter in it that matched his own.

 

Yuzuru pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, pulling back with a soft, wet pop and smiling – slow and heavy – when Shoma drew back just enough to look up into his eyes.

‘Terrible?’ Yuzuru asked in a whisper, a delight and a fascination in the way he took in Shoma’s features, and Shoma smiled slightly – dazed but earnest – and he wet his lips as his gaze roamed Yuzuru’s face in reciprocation.

‘Mm,’ he sighed. ‘Something like that.’ Yuzuru laughed, soft and quiet, and Shoma’s smile widened as he felt him lean back in for another kiss. Their lips almost met again, but, with a flicker of adrenaline and giddiness, Shoma pulled back just out of Yuzuru’s reach, eyes sparkling mischievously as he met Yuzuru’s amused but still determined gaze. Yuzuru tugged at his jacket again, and Shoma slowly let himself be pulled back in, a ghost of a kiss skimming his lips that made him sigh and draw closer, only to have Yuzuru be the one to pull out of reach this time with a wicked laugh and a dance of fingers along the curve of his ear that made him shudder and whimper. Yuzuru’s eyes were starry-dark and enchanted, and he quickly dipped back in, giving Shoma the longer, deeper kiss he had been wanting and letting out a sigh of his own as Shoma pulled at him, dragging him back towards his own seat until Yuzuru was the one balanced precariously, his hand coming to rest at Shoma’s waist like he found his sturdy, sure body to be a warm and pleasant anchor. Shoma smiled into the kiss and he felt Yuzuru do the same. With Yuzuru balanced against him, Shoma had to stretch up into the kiss, his back arching just a little as he brought his hands up to Yuzuru’s neck, one drawing a firm line lower to twist against the hem of his jacket. He could feel his heartbeat against his knuckles, and he laughed slightly, drawing in a shaky breath and pulling back to look up unfocusedly into Yuzuru’s face. For a beat Yuzuru chased the kiss, before slowly drawing away just enough to meet Shoma’s eyes, his smile a question and a challenge at the same time. They stared at each other for a moment, and Shoma expected them to fall into another kiss, but instead Yuzuru suddenly reached over him, pulling the fries along the counter with a silly laugh as he flopped back into his seat and bit triumphantly into a fry. Shoma attempted to scowl at him. ‘Terrible, and also an idiot,’ he sighed, and Yuzuru pulled a face, leaning over once more to give Shoma’s cheek a quick, conciliatory peck.

‘All’s fair in drunk-on-chemicals-brain and war,’ he shrugged, and Shoma groaned laughingly, rolling his eyes and giving him another elbow for good measure.

‘Urgh, how did I get stuck with you.’ Yuzuru shrugged.

‘A combination of your own dumb choices and my winning personality, if I had to guess.’ There was a heavy pause, both of them looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes, matching low smiles on their faces and a dusting of silver and gold cobwebs dancing in the air around them.

‘Really, Yuzu? You’re the most obnoxious, dumb human I’ve ever met and you think I’m here for your winning personality?’

‘Well you’re here aren’t you?’  Yuzuru smiled, and Shoma smirked, looking down shyly for a beat before carefully raising his eyes to meet Yuzuru’s once more.

‘I guess I am, huh. Despite…everything.’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly up at once corner, and Shoma’s breath caught in his throat. They watched each other for a second, chests rising and falling in near-perfect time, and then, slowly, Yuzuru leant forwards, drawing close once again. With another sly smile, Shoma arched back just a little, laughing as Yuzuru’s smile turned crooked and devilish, and suddenly the two of them were pushing and shoving again, the tension cut by Shoma’s high, hiccupping laughter and Yuzuru’s indignant nonsense of a complaint as they struggled back and forth, each trying to unseat the other with sudden ridiculous abandon.

 

In the end it was Shoma who – much to his own surprise – ended up winning their battle of wills, managing to dislodge Yuzuru with an undignified yelp. Yuzuru slid off his stool and was laughing hard enough to simply crumple, flopping to the ground in a tangle of limbs and clapping his hands in a mixture of delight and outrage as he threw his head back to laugh harder; Shoma simply watched him in fond amusement, gazing down at him from his new vantage point with a mixture of disbelief and powerful affection, a smile twisting his lips even as he shook his head at him. ‘You are the biggest mess I know,’ he said with a roll of his eyes. ‘And I know myself, so…that’s kind of saying something.’ Yuzuru simply pulled a face at him, and Shoma smirked, shrugging idly and taking a moment to look at him more carefully. He looked different from above – his cheekbones more pronounced, his jawline sharper and the slope of his face longer, and he almost looked like he could have stumbled out from between the frames of some wild, overblown movie. Almost. But his hair was messy, and there were shadows beneath his eyes – there was even still just a little grease on his lips from Shoma’s fries. He raked a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face and letting it feather through his fingers with a happy hum, sitting back on his hands to look up at Shoma placidly, eyes still bright even as he let the tiredness seep back into his expression. Although the lines of his face were harsher from above, he also somehow looked like a quieter version of himself – like the calm face of the moon as it watched a storm out over the ocean. Shoma liked it – liked the strange mix of frayed edges and peace, of fragility and angles. Contradictory Yuzuru, open and sighing and even more unguarded somehow with Shoma above him. Shoma smiled slightly, his eyes lingering on the slightly-raw skin at the corner of his lips, the way his tongue darted out briefly to run over it.

‘What?’ Yuzuru asked, tilting his head curiously, and Shoma twisted his lips to one side in an effort to stop the dumb smile he knew was still lingering on his face.

‘Nothing, just…I don’t often have the height advantage around here. I was trying to remember if I’d ever actually seen the top of your head before,’ he shrugged. Yuzuru pursed his lips, looking Shoma up and down thoughtfully for a beat before stretching up and – before Shoma could realise what he was up to – giving Shoma’s arm a firm, decisive tug. Shoma had no time to react before Yuzuru had successfully pulled him down on top of him, and he landed gracelessly in a mess of limbs and complaint. ‘ _Ow_ ,’ Shoma muttered dryly as he landed against Yuzuru’s chest with a thud, and Yuzuru simply laughed again, kissing his forehead.

‘Sorry. I wanted to re-level the playing field,’ he said softly, his expression quietening, and Shoma looked up at him with a quiet smile, laughing just a little as Yuzuru tugged at him, pulling him in for another kiss, his fingers feather-light at the nape of his neck and his body warm against Shoma’s own.

 

‘So…you want to go up to the roof?’ Yuzuru asked as they slowly pulled back, and Shoma sighed, resting their foreheads together and playing with the hem of Yuzuru’s shirt as he pretended to consider the offer.

‘Sure,’ he murmured after a beat, dipping back to look up into Yuzuru’s eyes. ‘Just please don’t push me off that too? I’m too tired to figure out how the hell to save myself from the drop,’ he said with a wicked smile, and Yuzuru let out a bright laugh, scrunching his face up and shaking his head decisively.

‘Don’t worry; I prefer my Shoma in one piece.’ He shrugged, getting to his feet and offering Shoma a hand up. ‘Death-defying stunts are my department anyway, right?’ he added, and Shoma groaned slightly, his lips tugging into a reluctant smile as dusted himself off.

‘That’s not funny, and, like, half the Foundation will back me up on this,’ he muttered, but Yuzuru simply pulled a face at him, grabbing his hand and starting to drag him away.

 

They were halfway to the door when Jason appeared from the back room, leaning around the doorway with a bright, suspiciously innocent smile.

‘Yuzu – I’ve got your order for you,’ he called, and Yuzuru turned, offering him a warm smile and leaning over to accept one of the café’s to-go boxes from Jason’s outstretched hand.

‘Thank you – I owe you,’ Yuzuru beamed, and Jason laughed.

‘I’ll hold you to that next time Tracy wants me to partner up with someone for another Power Basics project,’ he joked, before casting Shoma a knowing yet somehow still kind smile, giving him a quick wink. ‘Have a great Friday night, guys.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him warningly, but it wasn’t a warning Jason needed, his mischief gentle and his eyes full of genuine warmth. There was never any edge with Jason’s teasing, and he always knew when to rein it in – Shoma offered him a small smile in return and Jason nodded back to him, disappearing into the back room once more.

‘Here, these are yours, I think,’ Yuzuru said as Jason vanished from view, and Shoma frowned, taking the to-go order and peeking cautiously under the lid. He let out a soft laugh when he realised it was another portion of fries, and he flicked Yuzuru a small smile, shaking his head just a little.

‘You’re insufferable, you know that?’ he said, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him, leaning in to rest their foreheads together and giving his hand a small squeeze.

‘I guess the dopamine’s wearing off huh?’ he murmured, kissing the tip of Shoma’s nose, and Shoma let out a faint squeak of a laugh, shaking his head and glancing down.

‘No,’ he sighed, smile shy and blush suddenly raw again. ‘Never.’ Yuzuru hummed.

‘Then I guess that means you’re as stuck with me as I am with you,’ he remarked lightly, and when Shoma looked up to meet his gaze his blush only intensified. Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled with feeling, and he reached up to stroke his finger along the heat of Shoma’s blush. ‘Addictive personalities, right? We’re probably doomed, huh?’ Shoma laughed, biting his lip and nodding slowly, glancing down for a beat and taking a deep, steadying breath before looking back up at Yuzuru through his lashes with a gentle smile.

‘I guess I can live with being doomed with you. There’s gotta be worse company.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean…I haven’t met it yet but…it’s bound to exist.’ Yuzuru let out a fond laugh, rolling his eyes and giving Shoma’s forehead a quick kiss.

‘Come on, Trouble, before I change my mind about spending my Friday night with you.’

 

Even amidst the Foundation’s glittering skyline, the domed glass roof of the Creativity Hub was an unreal mirage of a thing; set just slightly lower than most of the Foundation’s tallest buildings, it looked like some kind of squat, ethereal lighthouse, lit up in shimmering, ghostly white and brighter than anything else on its level, turning it into an inset of crystal amidst the pooling black at the curve of the cliff. The walkway to the viewing platform at the top ran in a neat spiral around the inside of the glass dome, the edges of it lined with perfect rows of tiny, white lights that gave the glass its clean glow, the brightness reflecting off a column of mirrors which ran down the dome’s centre and giving the building a light, silvery crispness in the misty night. Although it was mostly sheltered by the taller buildings around it, the dome was still high enough up that there was a near-constant breeze, sharp and fresh as it sliced through the halos of hazy white light inside the dome, and Shoma shivered slightly as they stepped out into it, feeling the coolness of the night ruffling his hair and biting at him through the fabric of his jacket. He drew instinctively closer to the warmth of Yuzuru’s body, and Yuzuru smiled at him softly, catching Shoma’s hand with gentle sureness and pulling him near.

 

Yuzuru always felt so warm – it radiated off him, like he was functioning at a higher frequency than the rest of the world, his lightning falling off into the air around him and creating a sort of vibration along his skin that made him seem to shimmer and glow. He was always fidgeting, always moving, but at his centre was something constant – deep and warm and pulling, a sort of magnetic field that everyone around him was aware of, but which had some greater gravitational inevitability about it for Shoma, some heady mixture of his feelings and his sensing ability combining to form an invisible, inseverable string between their bodies. They moved in time, and with a matching sort of twisting, quiet, slow-motion grace – push and pull, ebb and flow, an ocean full of currents that had Shoma alert for where the jet black of the rocks might be waiting to break them. Yuzuru sighed beside him, turning his face into the breeze with a strange, faraway smile – the blissful, exhausted expression of someone who knew the universe was a terrible place and had decided to make peace with it and be happy anyway – and Shoma watched the way he was able to move effortlessly into the rush of the breeze with a fierce longing to remember him exactly this way. Yuzuru trailed his free hand behind him along the railing as they walked, the action undercutting the muzzy roar of the wind with a high, metallic clink, and everything somehow felt like a dream. Shoma had the strangest sensation, like he was simultaneously hyper-aware of everything in the moment – grounded in and surrounded by it – whilst also looking down on it from above, watching himself watch Yuzuru twist and sway with the changing wind as the two of them followed the path up to the top of the dome. It felt like the start of something, but maybe also the end; the dawn-breaking feeling again, the moment-slipping feeling. He took a deep breath and drew closer to Yuzuru’s body, seeking out comfort from it and closing his eyes for a moment. It made him feel so safe – the warmth and sinew of Yuzuru. It made him feel steady and happy. Made him feel like the rest of the world would never find a way in – couldn’t shake the two of them even if it tried. Yuzuru pulled at him, bringing the back of his hand up to his lips and dropping a soft kiss to his skin, but he didn’t meet Shoma’s eyes. It was a detail Shoma knew was significant; he had learned Yuzuru like a language somewhere along the way, and he was fluent enough that he even caught himself thinking in it sometimes. Yuzuru hardly ever avoided people’s eyes – even at his most restless.

 

As they stepped out onto the viewing platform, Yuzuru’s hand slipped out of his, and Shoma felt a slight ache go through his whole body; it was a bruise of a feeling, and he tried to push it away, tried to remind himself not to feel nostalgic for the night before it had even ended. He had never been one of those people who just knew when change was coming – change had always simply come and smashed headlong into his life before he really knew what was happening, and he suspected it was part of the reason he feared it so much, because of the increased destruction the surprise always seemed to reap. But Yuzuru had spent a lifetime staring change down and trying to figure out a way to win against it, and Shoma recognised the signs in him that change was coming even if he couldn’t sense it for himself; it was an intoxicating combination, the overwhelming force of Yuzuru’s prickling determination and the totality of the peace his company left in Shoma’s head. Shoma drew in a deep breath and let himself feel it in all its conflicted, overwhelming glory. He squinted his eyes against the coldness of the air and moved to join Yuzuru by the wall at the edge of the space,  putting his hands on the guardrail and peering down at the winking lights of the courtyard below. Yuzuru leant into him slightly, and although their eyes didn’t meet, Shoma still was aware of a powerful balm of understanding passing between the two of them, and a small smile came to his lips, quiet but contented.

 

‘Sometimes there is something lonely about the night, don’t you think?’ Yuzuru murmured into the silence, starry eyes watching as the signs outside one of the shops below flicked off to be replaced by the dim neon glow of a pharmacy sign in the window. Some stranger somewhere out in the darkness was finally going home for the night; distant, unknown, but still leaving some trace of themselves on the night somehow. Shoma folded his arms on the rail and rested his chin on them.

‘I think it’s because the darkness drowns out everything except the places where the light is. And all the lights – all the people – suddenly seem really far away. Everything is cold and quiet and disconnected…and it feels like almost everyone else must be asleep. It makes you question if you’re sure they were ever really there to begin with anyway. Living these lives that are just as complicated and messy as your own but somehow never cross your path.’ Yuzuru hummed softly, mirroring Shoma’s pose and turning his gaze across to the sequin-like glimmer of the courtyard’s pool lights.

‘Midnight is when it starts, I think. Because it’s a time that doesn’t really know where it belongs, you know? Is it one day or the other, is morning coming or is the dark a thicker thing than ever? That uncertainty…it’s a kind of magic in a way, but it can twist into a knife if you’re not in the frame of mind to see the promise in it.’ Shoma flicked him a sidelong glance, taking in the glow of his face beneath the moonlight, his gaze on the pink sting of a blush where the cold sea air whipped salt and ice into his skin. He looked young and yet somehow still world-weary, lost but oddly hopeful. ‘The night can make things seem colder, lonelier. But it can make things seem more possible too – the darkness somehow widens out the scope, I think.’ He looked over at Shoma, meeting his gaze with a soft, wonderous smile; when Yuzuru looked at him like that Shoma felt like maybe there was a chance he really was some fallen star, some cherished fragment of the universe. A precious thing, an equal to Yuzuru’s own light with a million years of darkness and longing between them and a million more to come. It was like midnight: Yuzuru’s moonlit gaze somehow widened out the scope of what was possible and what was known, twisting between opposites with a flicker of a promise and a sense of something fragile and momentary. ‘I think the quiet lets the magic in, maybe – the darkness opens out just enough space for it to slip in through the gaps in the skyline. And just like that? Suddenly feelings and moments are almost tangible things.’ Shoma wet his lips, his gaze wandering the angles of Yuzuru’s face and reading the clues which were written there in shadows and blushes and heavy eyelids, in the subtle curve of his lips.

‘And is that what you want? To reach out and find memories at your fingers? To close a fist around them and hold on?’ Yuzuru sighed, his lips twitching into a flicker of a smile as he turned his eyes downwards again, staring out to sea and watching the white, starlit peaks of the waves.

‘Maybe I’m trying to hold on and let go,’ he murmured. Shoma edged just a little closer, knocking their elbows together with near-imperceptible gentleness. He saw Yuzuru’s lips twitch again, his smile a ghost of pink and his eyes profoundly dark, and thunder rolled through Shoma’s whole body. Shoma blew out a breath, turning his own gaze out to sea.

‘That figures, for you,’ he sighed. ‘Always trying to do everything at once – being a walking contradiction.’ Yuzuru let out a breath of laughter, and Shoma looked back over at him with sad, affectionate eyes. He felt tired and alive – drunk on Yuzuru and the night, the taste of sea salt in the air. ‘Yuzu, what’s wrong?’

 

It wasn’t a question Shoma often asked – mostly because he didn’t need to, since Yuzuru’s feelings had a way of spilling out of him eventually, and he never liked walking the line of dishonesty with Shoma anyway if he could help it, but also because Shoma wasn’t one to push, he had a patience with his friends, because he understood the value in waiting. But tonight he sensed Yuzuru needed someone to be brave enough to ask, the same way he had on that night in the garden as Yuzuru had danced around the topic of his encounter with the Snatchers. Sometimes Yuzuru just wanted someone to stand up to him, to remind him he was only human and tell him off for trying to carry the weight of the world alone – and there was no one besides Shoma who had ever truly had the nerve to do that. It was a responsibility Shoma was proud to have been given, and he didn’t want to take it for granted. Carefully, quietly, he reached out, touching his fingertips reverently to Yuzuru’s luminously pale skin and skimming the sharpness of his face’s outline, putting just enough of his power in the touch that a dusting of gold was left behind, dissolving slowly into Yuzuru’s skin and making him sigh and close his eyes, leaning into Shoma’s touch. He allowed his power to make the decision on what to do – vaguely fascinated by the way Yuzuru’s power seemed to find it and coax it out immediately. It wasn’t healing, not exactly – it was more like undiluted sunlight, the rawness of Shoma’s power for Yuzuru to do with it as he pleased, giving in its purest form. ‘Yuzu,’ he whispered, and Yuzuru’s eyes opened slowly. There were whispers of gold in his gaze, reflections of sunlight and ghosts of lightning, and it took him a moment to focus properly on Shoma’s face; he was lost in the feeling of the moment, tangled in a cobweb of memory. ‘You’re desperate for the moonlight to be expansive and endless…because you’re frightened of something. But I know you don’t want to be. You shouldn’t give it the power of being left unsaid – you should turn it into words, let it disappear into the black and the breeze. You’re too tired to keep secrets from me and you know it.’ Yuzuru’s eyes fluttered closed at that, and Shoma pressed his fingertips a little more firmly to his skin, a shiver of sunlight settling into Yuzuru’s features as he let out another sigh.

‘That feels nice,’ he whispered. He glanced over at Shoma with a tired smile; he looked like a blot of ink and watercolour beneath the cool moonlight, his edges less defined than usual and his colours bleeding out into the night air. ‘You made peace and sunlight and stubbornness into a new kind of healing, huh?’ Shoma shrugged, and Yuzuru’s smile widened just a little, something on the edges of mischief briefly lightning up his eyes. ‘I guess that’s what happens when a boundless heart is given a boundless power,’ he added, and Shoma shook his head slightly, casting a shy glance down and biting at his lip. Yuzuru reached across and touched a hand to his chin, guiding his face back up to meet his gaze and offering him a fond, enchanted smile. ‘You were built for your power, Shoma. And you make it more than anyone else ever could. Don’t forget that – please.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a brief smile, and he looked down, bobbing his head vaguely. Yuzuru smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his forehead, and Shoma pursed his lips, running his tongue along the bitten skin and taking some strange, compulsive pleasure from the sore sting of it. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Yuzuru murmured, a depth of awe and feeling in his tone that made Shoma ache to kiss him. He reached up and Yuzuru’s eyes fluttered closed again as he let Shoma reverently trace his fingertips over his closed eyelids and along his cheekbones, purposeful but gentle and with just enough power to make Yuzuru hum, the sound causing something low in Shoma’s stomach to flip over, a deep sense of belonging working its way through his veins. Every time he thought he knew how he loved Yuzuru, he found another edge, a different sensation not quite like the last. He wanted to keep learning it forever. Yuzuru sighed again, eyes flickering open as he glanced back out to the ocean.

‘Yuzu,’ Shoma murmured. ‘Talk to me.’

 

For a moment Yuzuru was quiet, holding himself purposefully still and not letting his head drop; Shoma could almost sense the tension in his muscles, noticed the way he held his body like he was waiting for the catch – the photographer to appear, the call from Brian, the yells of Team Japan. But there was just the ocean and the sound of the breeze. Shoma’s soft breathing. The whispers of sunlight dissolving into Yuzuru’s skin. He swallowed and let out the breath he had been holding, resting his chin back down on his arms and closing his eyes; Shoma saw the exact moment the last semblance of the mask fell, his exhausted Yuzuru winning the battle of wills inside and coming to the surface in a rush. Shoma could sense the heady mixture of relief and exhaustion and he wanted to kiss Yuzuru for it, strangely – a sad sort of kiss, a deep longing to somehow hold together his fragile bones just for a little while, to try and spare him the effort for once. He settled for leaning in to press a single kiss to the side of Yuzuru’s face, and Yuzuru smiled, slight and sad, as Shoma settled back beside him.  ‘Yuzu,’ he said again, and finally Yuzuru opened his eyes once more, taking in a deep breath.

‘I’m so tired, Shoma,’ he breathed out into the silence, and Shoma looked at him with heavy-lidded knowing, his fingertips skimming across his cheek as he made a small, soft sound of understanding. ‘I’m so tired. And I’m tired of being tired. I just…want to trade it for being alive for a change.’ Shoma carefully drew his hand back, resting his head back on his arms and watching Yuzuru’s open face – patient and undemanding. Yuzuru hummed, half to himself and half to the moonlight. ‘I’m not good at pretending, huh.’ Shoma smiled slightly.

‘Maybe not to me.’ Yuzuru glanced over at him, his smile quiet.

‘Good. I would hate to be anyone but me with you.’ He sighed again, resting his chin back on his arms and tipping his head just slightly to watch a group of workers drift across the courtyard in a shift of shadows.

 

For a moment they listened to nothing but the sound of the breeze as it briefly picked up, swirling around the two of them with wintery fingers. Shoma shuddered and pulled himself in more tightly, tugging the collar of Yuzuru’s jacket up and taking refuge in the soft fabric, letting it sooth the raw skin of his cheeks – it was a form of healing that somehow went beyond what any power could offer, and he smiled slightly against it. ‘Two hours,’ Yuzuru suddenly breathed into the quiet, and Shoma frowned slightly.

‘Huh?’ Yuzuru didn’t meet his gaze, continuing instead to stare down at the darkness of the ocean beyond, his eyes seemingly intent upon the hard, smooth glints of the rocks which poked up above the waves.

‘Two hours – that’s how long it takes to fly down there. To where the Alliance are.’ Shoma tensed and Yuzuru wet his lips – they were more bitten-at than usual, red marks just visible when they parted slightly as he drew in a shaky breath. ‘There are eleven flights a day. A short drive outside of Boston and you’d be there before dawn.’ Yuzuru shrugged. ‘That’s how close they are. That’s how quickly everything could change.’ Shoma’s frown deepened.

‘So? You’re not going back there. Not ever. Not unless you take me too…and I won’t go. So no. Whatever you’re thinking of doing? It’s not happening,’ he said, sullen and firm, and Yuzuru let out a sad laugh, bumping their elbows fondly and shaking his head.

‘Believe me, that isn’t what I want, Shoma,’ he said, looking up into Shoma’s eyes with a gentle, earnest expression, and Shoma could sense the honesty in the words, could feel how much Yuzuru wanted him to know he understood the emotion behind his stubborn refusal. ‘I know there’s nothing for me there. They want me gone and I want them gone – it’s hopeless. Besides, we’re a team. I go, you go – and I wouldn’t want you anywhere near them. I know what they would try to turn your sunlight into, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to stop that happening.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile and he gave Yuzuru a small nod, knocking their elbows together in return.

‘I believe you,’ he said softly. ‘There isn’t anyone I believe in more. Always.’ Yuzuru matched his faint smile with one of his own, looking down almost shyly and giving a small shake of his head.

‘How much I don’t want to go back there, relive that feeling? That’s what I have in the back of my mind. That’s why I know how close they are – not because I want to go back, but because I don’t.’ His expression clouded a little, his forehead creasing into a fractured wince. ‘I know the time of every return flight – I know when they take off, I know when they land. How long it would take to drive from the airport to here.’ Yuzuru shivered, and Shoma wanted to wrap him in a hug, kiss his temple, drag his fingers along his warm skin and fill him with sunlight. But instead he held himself still, respectful of the tension which had returned to his body, aware of the edgy fear which had crept into his edges and sensitive enough to his ways to know he needed to dispel it himself, that there was no other option for that energy but for Yuzuru to burn through it now or end up breaking later. For Yuzuru, the way out was always through. ‘The Alliance were founded in the Netherlands, I think. Their official operations are run out of Switzerland – they claim for international affairs, but most people suspect it’s a finance thing. There is a massive training base in Russia, right in the middle of Moscow, and they have technological and research hubs throughout America. But still, after the Foundation was created? They felt the need to buy land and build their own city, surrounding it in forest and mystery – taking notes from everything Brian wanted for the Foundation complex and subverting it for their own ends. And all just a few hours away. They could have chosen anywhere in the world, but they chose to be that close.’ Yuzuru closed his eyes, and Shoma shifted a little closer, just enough to rest his head beside Yuzuru’s; Yuzuru’s lips curved into a hint of a smile, and he let out a grateful sigh, pressing his weight gratefully against Shoma’s side. ‘I’m tired of always knowing the pressure, always having to look over my shoulder and everyone else’s. There’s just so much awfulness in the world, Shoma. And even though I’m not allowed to? I let it get to me sometimes. That there is so much to beat back. And it is always closer to your door than you think. It never stops – to me, sometimes, it feels like it never will.’

‘Just because people say you’re not allowed, it doesn’t mean you’re not allowed, Yuzu,’ Shoma mumbled into the fabric of Yuzuru’s coat. Yuzuru made a noncommittal sound and Shoma jabbed him in the side, resolute and firm. ‘You’re not alone anymore, you know. You have me.’ He swallowed. ‘I can carry the weight when you need to rest. And maybe I won’t ever do it your way, or be seen the way you’re seen. But…I will be there. And I can take the weight of the world for you sometimes. To let you sleep. You just have to ask me. You just have to let yourself rest.’ Yuzuru lifted his head slowly, his eyes unfocused and so dark they were almost black but for the glint of the stars reflected in them; there was a sheen of tears there, and Shoma watched for a beat as one rolled free, tracing a haphazard path down the roundness of Yuzuru’s half-squashed cheek. He took in the stillness of Yuzuru’s body and the way the storm that raged inside railed against it, and he ached, understanding clearly as ever the price Yuzuru paid for being who he was.

 

Carefully, tenderly, Shoma reached out a hand, brushing the tears away with the pad of his thumb and watching a warm gold thumbprint briefly flare and then dissolve against Yuzuru’s skin; in response Yuzuru made a soft whimper of a sound, his eyes flickering closed, and Shoma dragged his thumb down to his jawline, letting the ridges of his thumb print catch along the sharp edges. ‘I love you,’ he murmured, his eyes following the path of his fingers. ‘And I’m always on your team; even when you’re lost or wrong or frustrated. And especially when you’re tired.’ He stretched up, leaning on the railing to lift him up onto his tiptoes just enough to press a kiss to Yuzuru’s forehead before coming to rest back against his arm once more. ‘And I wish I could lift it all off you. Take it away so you didn’t have to feel it. But…I know that feeling it is why you’re you. And the thought of you not being you? Is worse than anything to me. So all I can do is love you. And be on your team. And…be here. Always.’ Yuzuru opened his eyes slowly, meeting Shoma’s gaze with a low dusting of a smile, and when he wet his lips Shoma felt his breath catch in anticipation.

‘Sho,’ Yuzuru breathed, gravity in the way he said the words, pulling Shoma in. Shoma drew his body up towards Yuzuru’s on instinct, his own eyes closing as he felt Yuzuru lean in, his breath ghosting across Shoma’s skin. Yuzuru’s lips met his own and Shoma hummed into it, smiling at the taste of marshmallow and the barest hint of a late spring. One of Yuzuru’s hands moved to his waist, the other grazing his cheek, drawing him up and up to meet the graceful arch of his body as he twisted around to face him with that curious mixture of needy insistence and kind, reverent gentleness that was completely Yuzuru. Shoma brought his own hands up to Yuzuru’s face, the cuffs stretching over his hands so that only the tips of his fingers dragged against Yuzuru’s soft skin, one hand drifting down the curve of his neck and moving to his shoulder, gripping the fabric of Yuzuru’s coat for balance and smiling fondly as the smell of jasmine and bergamot mixed with the orange and amber of Yuzuru’s shampoo. Yuzuru pulled back just a little, kissing the corner of Shoma’s mouth, his cheek, his temple, his neck – the lightness of it tickled, and Shoma breathed out a laugh, pulling stubbornly at Yuzuru’s collar until he met his lips again. Shoma brushed his fingers lightly through Yuzuru’s hair and tipped back just enough that Yuzuru chased, grazing his lips then drifting again, this time to his chin, his throat, the beauty marks on his cheeks, the square of his jaw and the point just beneath his ear before finally returning to Shoma’s lips.

 

As the two of them drew back from each other, Shoma let himself sink back down to his feet with a sleepy sigh, looping his arm through Yuzuru’s and dropping his head onto his shoulder instinctively, smiling a tired, lopsided smile as Yuzuru pressed a kiss to the top of his head before leaning against him with a sigh. ‘I love you too, Shoma,’ Yuzuru whispered into the quiet. ‘And thank you.’

‘What for? It’s just…how I feel. It’s who I am,’ Shoma shrugged. Yuzuru hummed.

‘Then thank you for being who you are.’ He kissed Shoma’s head again, and Shoma looked up at him, smiling quietly, a glimmer coming into his eyes.

‘But…I’m who I am all the time,’ he said, quirking an eyebrow, the mischief in his voice piercing the heavy fog of exhaustion and tension in Yuzuru immediately, his face crinkling up in a soft, happy laugh that set off the paper planes in Shoma’s chest.

‘Then I guess I have a lot to thank you for, huh?’ Yuzuru said lightly, eyes sparkling bright as he leant in, and Shoma raised up onto his tiptoes again. Yuzuru touched a finger to Shoma’s chin, their lips almost meeting before suddenly Yuzuru leant back just a fraction, raising his eyebrows in faux-innocence. ‘But wait…aren’t we forgetting the part where you being you all the time also means you’re stubborn and sleepy and always forgetting your things in my room?’ He tilted his head. ‘Your lips are always cracked and you eat all my food and steal all my covers…call me names…’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him and Yuzuru laughed, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. ‘Haven’t I paid my dues to you in jackets alone at this point, Shoma?’ Shoma pursed his lips, fighting a smile.

‘And you sing along to your music too close to my ears and steal my fries and make me do my homework on Saturday nights; nobody here is perfect, Hanyu, so please just shut up and kiss me already.’

 

Yuzuru laughed into this kiss, the buzz of vibration from his laughter going from his body into Shoma’s and sending a dizzying dance of lightning through his bones. As Shoma brought his hands back up to Yuzuru’s face once more, he caught a hint of pancakes off the cuff of the jacket again and it sent an odd, giddy thrill through him – he laughed, high and thin against Yuzuru’s curving lips, and let his body gravitate back towards the warmth of Yuzuru’s. Goosebumps rose up along his arms even as a heat came to the surface of his skin, and Yuzuru kissed the raw, red patches of his blush with a soft hum, his thumb dragging across Shoma’s jawline on the opposite side, cool fingers contrasting sharply with the warmth of his skin.

‘You’re such a disaster,’ Yuzuru whispered into his cheek, briefly pulling back to laugh and delicately brush at Shoma’s windswept fringe, and Shoma pulled a face at him, stretching up onto his tiptoes to steal a quick kiss.

‘Shut up – you’re human chaos, and your hair isn’t fairing any better.’ Yuzuru laughed brightly, hands moving to Shoma’s hips to pull him back against him again, and the two of them fell back into each other with humming smiles.

 

For a moment Shoma let himself get lost in it, in the sensation of Yuzuru’s staticky edges falling away like petals swirling off his outline; his lightning cooled and ebbed into waves and Shoma felt his own sunlight to do the same, pooling in the pit of his stomach. It was strange, perhaps, to feel so grounded and so giddy at once, but that was always the magic of spending time with Yuzuru, just the two of them – time, power, the fate of the world, none of it mattered, it became small and the moment became bigger, the world opening out the same way midnight opened out the moonlit air. The thought stirred something in the back of his mind – Kanako’s teasing, wheedling tone from earlier echoing suddenly through his head and breaking a little of the spell somehow; he hesitated, pulling back just slightly and looking up at Yuzuru with a faint frown. ‘Wait…’ Yuzuru tipped his head slightly, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him. ‘This thing that’s happening right now…it isn’t a date is it?’ Yuzuru blinked at him for a second; Shoma felt the flutter of his laughter building in his chest before he saw his face crumple up, before he heard the ridiculous delight of it as Yuzuru let his head fall back for a moment, but it didn’t make the satisfaction of the sound any less.

‘Shoma!’ Yuzuru laughed, tugging Shoma flush against him and shaking his head slightly.

‘What?! It’s a valid question,’ Shoma huffed, and Yuzuru offered him a sweet, placating smile, something impish about it that forced a reluctant smile to Shoma’s lips.

‘No, but…you just sounded so outraged, I couldn’t help it,’ Yuzuru said, amusement still in his tone, and Shoma pulled a face at him, smacking at him half-heartedly.

‘You can never help it,’ he huffed. Yuzuru’s smile softened then, and he sighed, cupping Shoma’s face in his hands and looking down at him with intense fondness; Shoma was reminded of why he was fine with being the short one – because it meant Yuzuru could stare down at him exactly like that, somehow holding him up with a sureness of spirit and the curve of a smile.

‘This is because of Kanako and Nobu being meddling idiots without lives of their own, right? This sudden need to know what exactly this is?’ Yuzuru said more quietly. Shoma looked down, wrinkling his nose slightly.

‘It doesn’t bother me – the part about them knowing, I mean. It’s nice most of the time, when they’re not going stir crazy like they were today anyway.’ Shoma rolled his eyes. ‘It’s more the idea of it, I guess,’ he mumbled, shrugging awkwardly. ‘I mean…it’s Friday night and I’m with you. A month ago they would’ve rolled their eyes and made a joke about me being a hermit or you being a pain, and it would all just be…time. Time with you. And I preferred it that way. Because when it’s just time there are no rules. I can just…be me. It’s not boxed in by expectations or other people’s opinions. It’s my time – if I want to give it to you then it’s that simple. It’s time shared whatever dumb way we feel like, and I don’t want it to be deemed like it’s a failure just because it doesn’t match up to the word that got put on it.’ Shoma swallowed, looking slowly up into Yuzuru’s face and smiling when he found him looking at him with patient understanding. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised – nothing Yuzuru had ever done had made him feel for one moment like he needed to do or say anything other than what came naturally to him, everything about their interactions instinctive ever since they’d met. But somehow it was always a revelation to be able to look up into Yuzuru’s face and see that soft, immeasurably fond expression there, the light dancing in his eyes. Yuzuru’s lips curled at one corner, his hands finding Shoma’s waist; his touch was just firm enough to make sure Shoma didn’t squirm or shiver, a tell-tale clue to the easiness that always lingered between them, to just how well they had done at learning each other off by heart. Yuzuru’s eyes glittered.

‘Well…I don’t see Kana or Nobu around anywhere now so…I guess we’re safe to do whatever we please, huh?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, widening his eyes just a little, and Shoma laughed somewhat shyly, shaking his head and glancing away. In response Yuzuru tugged at Shoma insistently, wheedling until his centre of gravity shifted forwards just enough to make him stumble into his chest. Shoma’s resistance disappeared in an instant, and Yuzuru wrapped one arm around him in a loose hug that Shoma burrowed into, tucking his head under Yuzuru’s chin with a sigh. ‘You know, time is precious. People put labels on it because they think that might make them use it better somehow…but I think maybe the opposite is true. It adds a pressure: spend that time well, make every moment tick the right box of what it is supposed to mean. Where’s the room for the unexpected in that? The peace and the wildness and the in-jokes and secrets that frame all our memories and thread emotion through them? If a piece of time made you happy, then happy is the only label you need.’ Shoma smiled against the soft, muffled burr of Yuzuru’s voice, curling closer against his warmth and nodding as best he could.

‘I like that,’ he murmured into Yuzuru’s collar. Yuzuru rubbed at his side, firm and caring, and Shoma closed his eyes, drawing the memory in with fierce determination.

‘People are terrified of wasting time, I think. And I can understand that…we all get a little desperate sometimes. It can be easy for the world to confuse you into believing nights of sighs and silence and open skies are somehow less because nothing happened and no aim was met. But I would rather live for a moment to be whatever it was – I can figure out what it means later, but what matters most is that you find whatever magic you can whilst it’s yours. Even if it’s small. You can’t waste time by wasting time – not if you find a happiness in that time, a happiness which you can pull out as a memory some day when you need it most. What did the air smell of? What did that person’s laugh sound like? Was the grass fresh-cut or had it just rained? The funny thing about trying to live for the moment, for most people, is that they think that means being aware that it ends. But in truth? You have to live like it’s going to last forever, like you’re going to last forever – because in those memories? There is a hope it will, there is a hope you will. So make them good. Time isn’t ours to hold on to for long. But memories? They are. And…if nothing else? They’re lived under the same stars. Maybe those stars will remember at least, huh? You have to live like you believe someone is going to remember one day. You have to live like some part of it can – and should – be there ‘til the end of time.’

 

There was a moment of quiet between them, a heavy hush which Yuzuru allowed Shoma his space in, his energy quietening respectfully, thunderclouds parting to let the sunlight push through, opening out a space in Shoma’s head to think, to turn over Yuzuru’s words and draw out his own. Shoma pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at the horizon thoughtfully, and although Yuzuru didn’t look at him directly, he could feel him watching him, a reverent expression on his face and the sort of heavy gaze of someone trying to find a lost kingdom beneath deep waters who had just seen a flicker of light in the blue. He looked at Shoma that way when he edited his speeches too – always fascinated by the way his mind worked and the way he looked at the world, appreciative of any word Shoma gave him no matter how insignificant it seemed on the surface, seeing importance in the fact that Shoma would let his guards down enough to share his thoughts and seeing magic in his quietly sharp view of the world. But this was something more than Yuzuru simply wanting an opportunity to see things Shoma’s way – this was Yuzuru offering Shoma the chance to see things his way, desperately hoping to be known and understood. Shoma knew – Shoma had also spent a lot of his life longing for someone to just say “Yeah, me too, right?” and not make pointless efforts to change his mind or reframe his views, to simply see it his way for once and not assume that the negatives in it made it invalid somehow, that there could be some positive even in his darkest of moods. Slowly Shoma blew out a breath, sighing so heavily it was almost a hum, and he lifted his gaze up to Yuzuru’s face again, taking a moment to study it now it was lax and open and achingly vulnerable. Yuzuru’s lips were slightly parted, his eyes wandering back down to the wink and flicker of the lights in the distance with a kind of haunted nostalgia that Shoma recognised in himself – nostalgia for something not yet gone, something perhaps not yet even fully known, but so important it needed to be missed in advance, its meaning fixed and its value assigned forever. He wet his lips and swallowed down the raw rub of the feeling, let it scrape gravel fingers through his chest before settling back into the pit of his stomach. Then carefully, gently, he rose up onto his tiptoes to press a single kiss to Yuzuru’s chin before settling gratefully back into his embrace.

‘Every night might be the last, so every night needs to last,’ he murmured against Yuzuru’s chest. ‘That’s why you’re so wild right now. Because you’re constantly balancing on the edge of trying to experience it all to the fullest without ruining it by forcing the feeling into it and making it something artificial and overblown. You want everything, but you want it to come naturally, so  you can’t risk holding your breath for a moment in case it lets too many doubts in.’ His words were hushed but certain, the statement sure and not a question, and he  caught the tragic little smile that curled Yuzuru’s lips, the way they parted in the faintest gasp of relief at the rush of feeling Shoma had drawn out. Yuzuru shifted to look down into Shoma’s face, and Shoma offered him an answering smile, sad but certain, dark eyes intent as he studied Yuzuru’s features and took mental notes of every twitch of muscle and every hint of feeling. ‘You think something’s coming that could change everything. You think “one last night” might be soon,’ Shoma added then, letting the full implications of Yuzuru’s restlessness filter into his consciousness and trying to figure out how he felt. Yuzuru swallowed, nodding vaguely, and Shoma bit his lip, staring back out at the angry ocean for a beat. He shivered even though Yuzuru’s body was warm beside him, and he let himself listen to some of those ever-present fractures of sound which echoed out in the darkness around them.

 

‘I’m sorry,’ Yuzuru said suddenly, his voice so soft it was almost lost to the quickening breeze, and Shoma looked up into his face with a hint of a frown, reaching up a hand to trace a finger along Yuzuru’s jawline, as though he wanted to reconfirm he was there with him, checking his outline matched the pattern in his memory and redrawing the memorised lines in his head to made them surer, even closer to the real thing and almost solid. Shoma drank in his colours. The feeling of his chest rising and falling. The slight sheen of moisture on his bottom lip as he worried at it.

‘You don’t need to be sorry, Yuzu. I don’t need an apology and you shouldn’t have to give one anyway.’ Shoma stretched up to press a single kiss to his lips then pulled back to meet his eyes. ‘I chose you. I made my own mind up and I chose you knowing who you are, what your life is. What your battle is. I’d choose endings with you over beginnings with someone else a million times if I had to – once my mind is made up it’s made up; that’s who I am. And…this is just the way we both live our lives: fighting, always.’

 

Yuzuru looked at him with the softest of smiles; a dawn-breaking smile, all pink edges and quietness, his colours shifting from washed-out to bright and his edges golden. He touched a finger to Shoma’s chin and leant in to press a kiss to his lips.

‘I would never want to change that in you – I only ever want you to be the most you that you can. And I’m sorry that…by being the most me that I can I seem always to be bringing destruction with it,’ Yuzuru murmured, pulling back to look into Shoma’s face again, his fingers drawing along Shoma’s jawline slowly, and Shoma frowned, shaking his head slightly.

‘Stop apologising. I was being me when I went back to Japan, and look where that got us. I want you to be you more too. I want to make it easier for you to be, because you know we’re in it together, that the “me too” is always implied.’ Yuzuru’s smile twisted slightly – a dragged-up, honest-rough happiness in the expression that scalded Shoma’s sensing power with its heat, making him draw his breath in sharply.

‘I just wanted you to know-’ Shoma cut him off with a quick press of a kiss, his fingers tangling insistently in the collar of his jacket as he held himself up for their eyes were level.

‘Yuzu: I knew,’ he whispered, shrugging slightly and lowering himself back down, and Yuzuru’s smiled gentled as he sucked at his bottom lip, bobbing his head in a slow nod and resting their foreheads together.

‘You edit me like you edit my speeches, huh? You see the mess and the mistakes and crumpled up pages, the endless paragraphs and false starts…but you still find a value there, see the best version in between the crossings out. Drawing in the margins to fill up empty space. Adding words but never changing the heart of the story.’

‘You say that like it doesn’t go both ways,’ Shoma murmured, and Yuzuru scrunched up his face, shaking his head slightly and grazing his knuckles along Shoma’s cheek.

‘That’s for you decide.’

‘Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Yuzu.’ Shoma smirked slightly, challenging and dry but still somehow sweet. He looked down for a beat, biting at his cheek. ‘You’ve always known me right back. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said hello to me.’ Shoma shrugged slightly, looking back into Yuzuru’s face. ‘You always know where you’re going.’ Yuzuru’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and he kissed Shoma’s forehead lightly, brushing at his fringe as he pulled back with a sigh.

‘Maybe we were both lonely and playing pretend half the time – a hello means something to us it doesn’t mean to most people…and maybe we’d both been stuck in our own holding patterns waiting for someone to understand.’

‘It wasn’t hello, it was…more like…“Excuse me, I think we’re different but…we’re actually kinda the same”,’ Shoma said with a flippant smile that belied the weight behind his words, and Yuzuru laughed, nodding thoughtfully.

‘A partner in crime; we know the rules we play by are the same, even if they’re not the same as everyone else’s.’ Shoma huffed out a laugh, nodding and playing absently with the edge of Yuzuru’s jacket.

‘Or in my case it was more… “Sure, I’ll rob the bank with you but I can’t promise to stick around for the inevitable showdown with the police”,’ he sighed, and Yuzuru pulled a face, tipping his head to meet his gaze.

‘You came back and jail-broke me, Sho – that’s the part I remember, at least.’ Shoma laughed again, rolling his eyes.

‘That’s because you’re the optimist in this relationship. You even make the end of everything we know sound like some big adventure in making memories.’ Yuzuru hummed by way of acknowledgement, seeing no point in useless platitudes he didn’t even mean, and Shoma was grateful that he didn’t try to pretend anything was safer or more certain than it really was, grateful to not be lied to and to have his more pessimistic nature valued as a grounding, steadying force. ‘I’m the counterweight, right? Not just in the balance of our powers but…in everything else as well.’

‘I don’t mind, Shoma. Sometimes I know I need the reminder that there are rocks at the bottom of the cliff, so maybe don’t mess too much with the edge.’

‘Sometimes you don’t really have a choice though.’

 

Shoma let out a heavy breath, looking down and worrying at his lip. ‘Yuzu, can I ask you something?’ Yuzuru gently knocked his hand to Shoma’s chin to force his eyes back up to meet his own and smiling quietly down at him.

‘You can ask me anything, Shoma,’ he said, kissing Shoma’s forehead, and Shoma offered him a sad, lopsided smile.

‘I know, I just…I’m worried I don’t want to hear the answer,’ he sighed. Yuzuru made a small, considering sound in the back of this throat, tipping his head to one side slightly and leaning in to kiss the side of Shoma’s face, the corner of his lips and then, finally, his mouth, his fingers drawing a slow, deliberate line from Shoma’s jaw up along his ear, down his neck and then across his collarbone. As always, Yuzuru poured into his senses like a summer storm, and Shoma tasted the sweetness of Yuzuru’s lip balm and the vaguest hint of lightning at his lips, the tumbling of the ocean growing louder in his ears and a deep, electric roll running through his bones. He made a small, soft sound, drawing impossibly closer to Yuzuru’s warmth. Magnetic and roaring, Yuzuru’s energy pulled him in, made him hyper-aware of every sensation; the scent of bergamot was thicker, the taste of marshmallows richer, the feeling of Yuzuru’s muscles shifting beneath his hands more pronounced. He closed his eyes more tightly and drew himself back, looking into Yuzuru’s face and taking in the details of it, remembering the exact shade of pink his lips were when freshly kissed and how his hair flew up around him like a crown of feathers in the moonlit night. He stretched up, pressed one more lingering kiss to his lips, then sank back down and stepped in close, folding himself against Yuzuru insistently and smiling softly to himself as Yuzuru wrapped his arms around him without question. He closed his eyes and burrowed in, pulling at Yuzuru’s coat so it sheltered him a little more from the breeze. Yuzuru’s heartbeat was steady and familiar against his ear. There was nowhere safer, and in response to the flood of feeling his power skipped and raked at time – Shoma felt it drag and catch and stutter around them, felt the low vibration and burr of Yuzuru laughing gently, kissing the top of his head and smoothing out the time stop with sure and placatory thunderclouds.

 

Pressed against the safe concave of Yuzuru’s chest, Shoma felt the last of his usual set of checks and guards and defences against the world fall away; Yuzuru’s body was straight and strong against his own, a shield from the cold and the relentless nagging of the sea out beyond the cliff, and for a moment he let himself feel all the fear and fragility and lack of control that was closing in around him. ‘Yuzu?’ He shifted in Yuzuru’s arms, leaning back to look up into his face, and Yuzuru smiled down at him, sweet and patient as he lifted gentle fingers to Shoma’s fringe, brushing it out of his eyes.

‘Shoma,’ he replied, fingers dancing the line of Shoma’s jaw and making him shiver slightly.

‘Do you…do you think we’ll still be standing here a year from now? Not right in this spot but just…here. Together. Do you think it’s as simple as saying “I’ll meet you there” and having it just…be true?’ Yuzuru’s smile was a strange curve of sadness and nostalgia, and it made Shoma feel a little like he was falling. Yuzuru rested their heads together with a gentle hum, and Shoma closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Yuzuru tracing the line of his eyelashes, his breath catching a little as he felt some of Yuzuru’s power fizz behind it, whispering its way beneath the surface of his skin in warm waterfalls of sparks and petals.

‘Would it make a difference, Shoma? Would it really change anything – if I told you we would definitely find ourselves here again, just like this?’ Shoma flinched slightly.

‘On the inside? It wouldn’t change anything, and you know it. But outside? In the world I have to live in most of the time? It would change everything. It would make the universe even colder and harder than it already is, without a promise that…that this moment might come around again another time.’ Yuzuru pressed a kiss to Shoma’s forehead.

‘But this promise of more…it wouldn’t take away the fact that this other moment – promised and waited for and made real – would also have to end,’ he murmured. ‘And it wouldn’t take away all the parts of that first moment that you already let inside.’ Yuzuru took Shoma’s face in his hands, gently and achingly tender. ‘Whether it happens again or whether it’s the last time…you will always be able to meet me here. A million times over. Right here, just like this. If that’s what you want. Come back here any time you need and I will be there just the same as I am tonight…you just have to let the feelings sink in without holding back.’ Shoma’s brow furrowed just slightly, and Yuzuru offered him another wan smile, lifting one shoulder in a faint shrug. ‘Everything is temporary, Shoma. Everything except the things we choose to give permeance to.’ Yuzuru’s hands moved down to Shoma’s neck, his thumb dragging a little along this jaw. ‘Forever is a choice. And when we give a moment a meaning to us, we also give it that gift – that everlasting imprint inside. Not even time can take that choice away from you. All things will pass – moments will fade, people will move on. But what’s permanent? Is the choice to hold on – the gift of forever. You can’t lose something you keep as part of you, something you have given that significance to; time can’t reach its colours, take away the smell of the rain or the creak of the branches. It can’t take away the words that were given to you. What’s inside is there for as long as we want it to be, mattering for as long as we want it to matter. Feelings, meanings, stories; they cannot ever truly be forgotten once taken to heart that way. They have impact, leave an indentation behind, an impact we feel in that moment, but also forever after it, if we choose to feel it. Everything you’ve ever thought or felt – every sound, every touch, every bruise, even every tear – can carry you home when you need, to the place the words were first spoken, the song first played. An echo of music that will never stop; a song that may change its volume or shift to a new verse, make you feel a different way one day than it did another…that may make you cry as much in remembered happiness as in remembered loss, but that will never stop singing to you, even on the darkest of nights.’ Shoma let out a shaky sigh.

‘It all comes back to magic, right? If it made you happy, then the magic is done. You will have always had the happy, even if it ends. You put it out into the universe, so it will be out there for you to reach for when you need to bring it back to you.’ Shoma bit his lip, his eyes closing as Yuzuru kissed the side of his face with a gentle hum. ‘Even if you also took the hit…the happiness is what gave the pain power so…it must be the bigger part of it…or at least…you have to let it be the bigger part of it…by giving that part its permanence, its place in your memory.’

‘Once you make something into a memory, Shoma? You’ve made your choice. Whether the moment was good or bad is already done – whether you laughed or smiled or cried, whether you understood the words being said or heard the ones being left out? It will still end. But you get to decide what’s important to you, you get to decide when and why you go back. Do you go back to learn? To press at a bruise? To remember that, even though the world has continued to move around the sun like nothing has changed, that doesn’t erase that thing, that whatever-it-was that drew you to that person and kept your attention on them. That history or gravity or magic? That spell? It was there and you experienced it. You can meet someone for five minutes at a bus stop and never see them ever again…but still choose to keep them with you forever, if that one wonderful smile they gave you came to matter to you in some way. Five minute people can live forever: you have that power of permanence, and it’s only inside that that permanence truly exists, because…on the outside? Things move on all the time and people often leave. Sometimes you have to accept that you are living for the smile left in your wake, and that the amount of time a person has spent with us is not a measure of that time’s value, it’s just an empty number.’

‘Live for just one night but also for a million years beyond it,’ Shoma whispered with a sad smile, and Yuzuru nodded slowly, his gaze turning down.

‘A million years of stories can come from one last night of memories, I think.’

 

Shoma drew in a breath, feeling it catch in his throat as he closed his eyes and took the dull blow of acceptance and understanding. Yuzuru traced a lightning bolt zigzag along Shoma’s arm, his lips twisting to one side, and Shoma shivered, looking back up into his face with dark, earnest eyes.

‘Are you giving me a warning about something you already know, or are you just hedging your bets on the grounds that stars tend to burn out eventually?’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched up in a desolate half-smile.

‘Maybe not a warning…maybe more of a wish?’ He shrugged, letting out a breath which was somehow both a sigh and a broken laugh at the same time. ‘A note to self, you know?’ Shoma nodded slightly, looking down and playing with his jacket cuffs. His fringe fell in his eyes, and once more Yuzuru carefully pushed it away. Shoma looked back up at him.

‘So why now? Why is this Friday night any different from every single one before? The Alliance were just as much a threat then as they are now, weren’t they? And yet you’re talking like the end of the world is coming.’

 

Yuzuru sighed, his hand dropping away from Shoma’s face as he turned his eyes skywards, and Shoma watched him, breath held and gaze curious.

‘Nothing,’ he shrugged, giving Shoma a sidelong glance. ‘Nothing has changed.’  Shoma’s eyebrows drew together in a frown, and Yuzuru offered him a small smile, lopsided and strangely sweet. ‘That’s the problem, though. Nothing is any different than it was last week.’

‘I don’t-’

‘Nothing has happened, Sho. Nothing at all. No press releases, no social media storms. Not even a tabloid rumour. There was our press conference…a sea of photos of you and me and Brian looking on proudly. And then there was silence.’ Yuzuru shrugged again, the gesture helpless and frustrated. ‘If the research Brian has done into the Alliance’s network is right? Then they have _never_ taken that approach before, Sho. Especially not on stories to do with you or me. Stories about both of us? That’s their favourite bait. Only this time? They very deliberately didn’t take it, even though we aimed it so surely their way.’ Shoma’s frown only deepened, and he shook his head slightly, wrinkling his nose; he felt some stubborn sense of disbelief, as though he could will the information to not be true, the possibility to be less intimidating.

‘I mean…maybe they’ve gone quiet through all their official stuff but…they have a whole campaign online, right? They’ll be doing something somewhere, even if it’s just spreading rumours about our big power feud on Twitter or whatever story they want to use to turn us into rivals this week.’ Yuzuru leant in, tucking some of Shoma’s hair behind his ear and paying more attention to the gesture than was strictly necessary; Yuzuru had a way of turning his fears and frustrations into a heat of concentration, and Shoma felt the static of it all over his skin, constellations of lightning mapping out paths along his flesh and sinking down into his bones. ‘Yuzu,’ Shoma whispered, a wince of a thing, and Yuzuru sighed, letting Shoma go and leaning against the guardrail. He reached into his coat pocket and held out his phone, casting Shoma sad sidelong glance.

‘I’m telling you: they’ve gone to ground, Shoma. The rulebook is out of the window for sure now, and they don’t want to risk us having any clue what’s coming.’ He shrugged. ‘See for yourself if you don’t believe me.’

 

Shoma reluctantly took the phone, staring down at the blank screen for a moment and nervously sucking on his bottom lip; he knew Yuzuru wouldn’t lie to him, and it wasn’t evidence he wanted to see. Denial was a tempting prospect, but he didn’t like the dishonesty of it – he was done hiding, and he wanted to see for himself what Yuzuru had seen so he knew what he was up against, even if all he ended up knowing was that he didn’t know anything. Yuzuru had folded his arms, resting his chin on them in order to gaze out to sea once more, his eyes slightly narrowed against the briskness of the breeze; Shoma could almost hear the cogs of his mind starting to turn and grind together once more. The roar of the waves seemed louder in Shoma’s ears than before, and the cold night stung at him; in the absence of the protective circle of Yuzuru’s hold, all the points where their bodies had been in contact felt the icy air more intensely, made soft and sensitive by Yuzuru’s warmth, and Shoma felt like he had been thrust abruptly into an early frost. He moved to stand beside Yuzuru, leaning against the guardrail next to him, close enough to knock their elbows together as he settled. He carefully unlocked the phone, sharing a sidelong glance with Yuzuru, who offered him a somewhat apologetic smile in return. Shoma bit his lip and looked back down at the phone in his hand, his expression turning shuttered as he pulled up Twitter, scrolling through the heavily-disguised account he and Yuzuru now shared as a way to monitor the active and influential Alliance-associated accounts which worked to spread rumours and sow doubt against the two of them and the Foundation. He glanced quickly at their account’s own recent posts out of idle curiosity, and he narrowed his eyes slightly, knocking into Yuzuru’s side with a half-hearted glare.

‘Yuzu, you’ve been filling the page up with cat videos again,’ he complained, rolling his eyes fondly, and Yuzuru stuck his tongue out at him, jostling him back.

‘Shut up, Sho; there’s also all my favourite pictures from the press conference on there for balance.’ Shoma smirked slightly, giving a slow nod as he saw for himself; a hundred different pictures of him and Yuzuru, all with Yuzuru’s silly emoji captions that only the two of them would really understand. Shoma hesitated over some of the pictures, smiling slightly despite himself. There was one of the two of them leaning towards each other, Yuzuru’s face half-hidden as he whispered something in Shoma’s ear, the two of them standing in the doorway, almost out of view as they waited to be shepherded on to the next round of interviews, Shoma leaning petulantly backwards against Yuzuru, another one from the photo call of Shoma half-glaring, half-smiling up at Yuzuru as he corrected his pose with a ridiculous crinkle of laughter. He got through a slew of clips taken from TV news and then hit another wall of cat videos and rolled his eyes, holding the phone up to Yuzuru briefly to make his point.

‘I know no one knows it’s our account? But I am still embarrassed to be seen with you, you know that?’ Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘Well you’re doing a bad job of showing it, huh? Scroll back up again and we can argue the point…’ he pouted, and Shoma fought a smile, shaking his head slightly before turning back to the phone with a fond sigh. ‘Anyway, I can’t put other content on there to bait Alliance accounts with if there’s no Alliance accounts to bait, Sho: look at the followers page, and the following – all those big accounts that used to complain about us and stir up rumours of your secret plan to overthrow my reign of terror? Gone. Locked or deleted or just suddenly silent. Every single one of them, more or less. Only the ones we weren’t sure were Alliance-owned are still going, but they have no material to work with, because the press haven’t run one bad story all week.’ Shoma frowned down at the screen, seeing the truth in Yuzuru’s words as he scrolled through the pages but still somehow mystified by it. What little content there was to be seen was all from accounts on the other end of the spectrum – popular Foundation fans whose posts for the last week mostly consisted of the same ten pictures of him and Yuzuru. Without the Alliance’s accounts twisting everything upside-down, a more positive narrative was being built around the two of them, happy, silly captions about team mates and friendship gracing the images and old articles from the Singapore trip being brought back up to re-share some positive anecdote, all traces of the supposed bitter rivalry buried practically without a trace now there was no targeted network to help spread the lie. Shoma hated to admit it, but Yuzuru was right – the silence spoke louder than words. The game had changed, and the Alliance didn’t want the Foundation to know the new rules until it was too late.

‘Oh,’ Shoma whispered, locking the phone again and lifting his gaze out to the ocean for a moment.

‘Yeah,’ Yuzuru sighed sadly, resting his head on his arms so he could look up into Shoma’s face with a wonky smile. ‘And as entertaining as your brother’s tweets are, when his comments about how he’s sure it was you that spilled Red Bull on half his stuff are the most negative content on a timeline that used to be full of gossip and wildly-out-of-context quotes? I start to worry what those people behind those profiles might be putting all that bad energy into now instead.’

 

A shudder ran through Shoma’s whole body, and he bit at his lip to try and steady himself, wincing against the dull throb of pain and swallowing hard. When he turned the phone over in his hand, he felt his skin catch against the edge just slightly, and he looked down at it with a frown, squinting at the offending scratch and feeling a ache of memory as he traced his finger over it. He hadn’t been expecting to find a mark still there – but there it was, stark proof that it was only a little over a week since the last time Shoma had stared the cruelty of the universe in the face and attempted not to blink.

‘You haven’t healed the mark out of it,’ he murmured, looking up at Yuzuru in surprise. Yuzuru kept his eyes on the horizon, giving Shoma a small shrug.

‘Some wounds aren’t meant to be healed,’ he replied softly. ‘Sometimes you have to give permanence to the awful feelings too. Just to prove to yourself that it happened and yet…somehow you’re still alive.’ Shoma pursed his lips, looking back down at the mark on the phone and letting himself remember the first time he’d seen it there; he remembered the dredged-up, nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach and the sluggishness of Yuzuru’s lightning, he remembered the sound of Yuzuru’s voice, desperate and cracking, and the high, harsh yelp dragged from the back of his throat as he had disappeared from the camera’s view. When he blinked open his eyes he was all the more grateful to see Yuzuru standing there, bright and beautiful and warm, his skin pale but unbroken and the wind whipping up whisps of his hair all around him, keeping him moving even when he was still. He felt his lightning sparkling in the coldness and the earthy pull that ran between them every time they were close. He felt his heart in his throat. And he knew what Yuzuru meant about letting the pain linger – it brought home a greater meaning to the happiness of fries and moonlight and playful argument.

 

‘Ok,’ Shoma whispered after a lingering pause had drawn out between them, and Yuzuru frowned slightly, glancing up at him with a curious blink and tipping his head to better meet his gaze. Shoma shrugged. ‘Let’s do it. Let’s be wild and stupid – like you want. Restless and dumb.’ Yuzuru’s face cleared a little, a light filtering into it slowly that made Shoma’s heart turn over in his chest. ‘I get it, you know? Wanting to pretend it’s not our responsibility to fix everything for a while and…making the most of being able to be ourselves.’ Yuzuru’s smile widened slightly, eyes sparkling with unbridled feeling.

‘Like for some small window of time, our existence is just our own?’ he breathed, and Shoma smiled back at him quietly, giving a small nod. ‘I don’t have to earn it or prove I deserve it…because it’s just…yours and mine…’ Yuzuru breathed out the words quietly, looking down with a hunted, shadowed look that sent a crackle of fierce, protective fire through Shoma’s chest.

‘You don’t have to justify anything, remember? The miracle already happened: you do exist, you’re here. We’re both here. And that’s enough.’ Yuzuru looked up at him and he smiled calmly, steady and certain suddenly as he tugged at the sleeve of Yuzuru’s jacket ,making him straighten up, then he rose up onto his tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

‘All we have to do is live like we know we’re alive. No magic is going to be put back into the world if you’re so scared of not justifying your own existence right you never live at all. You have to live wildly and magically and happily – you have to run riot for the sake of the people who can’t. Like your family. Imagine if people in the Grey Zones were given one more Friday night, Yuzu; spend it how they would, not the people who have tried to distract themselves and displace their fear by making it your responsibility to earn every breath you take.’ Shoma took Yuzuru’s hand in his, tugging him just a little closer. ‘Be my Yuzu, the Everything Yuzu. And be him with me.’

‘And won’t that ruin your plans and take your Friday night away from you?’

‘I want to waste time with you…because that way I can be sure the time wasn’t a waste.’ Yuzuru’s lips twisted into a devastating smile; so magical and so pale, lips the colour of dusk and eyes full of sunlight. And Shoma felt so much it didn’t fit inside him – he knew the golden light dusting Yuzuru’s skin was his, the same way he knew the pale, moonlight silver over his own skin was Yuzuru’s, and it sent a thrill through him to feel everything he felt matched in turn by Yuzuru, no flicker of doubt in his mind that he was anything less than all-in too. He felt the swish of ribbons, wrapping around their joined hands in bands of gossamer light, and he gripped at Yuzuru’s fingers even more tightly, using the hold to pull himself back up onto his tiptoes and capture Yuzuru’s lips in another lingering kiss, hands drifting up to Yuzuru’s jawline, his neck, his shoulder, unashamedly demanding until Yuzuru’s own hands moved to touch his skin, to flatten against his back and catch him at his waist when he lost his balance.

 

The two of them pulled back from the kiss slowly, Shoma taking a moment to blink his eyes back into focus as Yuzuru ran his fingers across the plains of his face, along his eyebrow and across his cheekbone, down his nose and over the curve of his lips. ‘One last Friday night. That can last for the rest of time,’ Shoma smiled, starry and wistful at the same time, his dark eyes glittering as he met Yuzuru’s gaze.

‘We could play at being fallen stars for a while, even; make our own new legend, you and me – the story might not end so neatly, but it will last just as long. Become permanent in a way Friday nights usually can’t.’ Shoma breathed out a flicker of a laugh, nodding slowly and drawing himself up to touch his forehead to Yuzuru’s, closing his eyes with a hum.

‘That sounds terrible and brilliant at the same time,’ he whispered. ‘Which sounds perfect because…it sounds just like you. All contradiction and wonder and…maybe a bit of danger. But it doesn’t have to be fancy – I’ll take listening to you talk about your impossibly complicated maths assignments for forever if that’s what’s on offer. As long as you’re there. Spending time with me.’ Yuzuru let out a soft laugh, grazing his knuckles along Shoma’s cheek for a moment. He pursed his lips, holding up one hand and offering Shoma his little finger, and Shoma laughed, hooking his own little finger around it and quirking an eyebrow at Yuzuru. ‘What are you even promising me, Yuzu?’ he joked, and Yuzuru tipped his head back and forth for a beat, regarding Shoma thoughtfully.

‘All my wasted time and all my midnights. To meet you here a year from now, even if it’s only in a memory.’ Shoma swallowed, taking the hit of that thought and letting it shiver through his system for a beat before shaking it out and off into the night. He used their joined hands to tug at Yuzuru playfully. ‘Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Shoma agreed, and Yuzuru let out a breathy laugh before dipping his head for another long, slow kiss, the two of them twisting together this time, Yuzuru still steadying Shoma at his waist and Shoma winding into the touch, one hand at Yuzuru’s jawline, his thumb pressing into his skin.

 

Shoma half-fell back from the kiss, drifting until Yuzuru caught him with another happy little laugh that crinkled up his features and made his eyes disappear into crescents. He moved to catch Shoma by the wrist, his thumb pressing lightly against Shoma’s power mark as he pulled him a fraction closer – the gold lines glowed in response, the skin of Shoma’s wrist burning hot just for a second before the feeling passed and softened. Shoma let himself be tugged at, stumbling into Yuzuru’s warmth with a laughing groan and tucking himself gladly into his chest, shuddering slightly as Yuzuru danced his cool fingers teasingly along the back of his neck. ‘Why do you always feel so warm but your fingers are so cold?’ Shoma mumbled, smiling as he felt the vibration of Yuzuru’s laughter against his cheek. He shivered and burrowed into Yuzuru’s coat, which only made Yuzuru laugh harder.

‘Sho,’ he chided fondly, kissing the top of his head and shifting to wrap the coat around so it was covering both of them. ‘Maybe the real problem is why are you always so cold and never remembering to bring you coat, huh? Winter will come eventually, Shoma – and at this rate you are going to turn to ice and hibernate.’ Shoma whined and tucked himself into the soft, crinkling lining of Yuzuru’s coat with a huffy pout.

‘How many times, Hanyu: stop using logic on me when I’m tired,’ he protested weakly, a thrill running through him when Yuzuru laughed again, rubbing his back and squeezing him close. ‘Like hibernation is a bad idea anyway; the bears are onto something, Yuzu. We should all get to sleep for half a year and it just be deemed acceptable.’ Shoma couldn’t see it, but he knew Yuzuru was smiling, could feel the fond, crackling edge of it in his energy. ‘Anyway, you keep saying I’m the sun, right? So think about it: everyone gets to feel the benefit of sunlight except the sun itself. I’m cold because I’m selfless and noble and you can’t say that’s not true because you call me that stuff all the time – when you think I’ve fallen asleep and you’re waxing poetic about myth and nonsense and why you can’t believe how wrong half the press back home are about me.’ Yuzuru hummed, sceptical and amused and oddly delighted.

‘The sun’s surface is approximately fifteen million degrees Celsius, Sho – does that sound cold enough for you? You are noble and selfless, Shoma, but you are also a little bit of a disorganised mess who never remembers to just…wear a coat.’ Shoma’s brow wrinkled, and he pulled back just enough to scowl up into Yuzuru’s face, thumping an indignant fist weakly against his chest.

‘Why do you even know the surface temperature of the sun, huh?! You planning a visit?’ he demanded through a winey laugh, rolling his eyes and flopping back against his chest. ‘Didn’t you hear that people with wings shouldn’t fly too close to fifteen million degrees anyway?’ Yuzuru tried to suppress a laugh, resting his cheek to the top of Shoma’s head and giving an awkward shrug.

‘I like knowing things,’ he said simply. ‘And my wings aren’t made of wax – they’re skin and bone and magic, and they’re made of the same steel that made you.’ Shoma rolled his eyes, smirking fondly against Yuzuru’s collar.

‘You’re so full of it.’ Yuzuru laughed, giving Shoma a small squeeze.

‘Don’t be mean to your human coat, Shoma, or I’ll withdraw my services.’ Shoma smirked and Yuzuru pulled back just enough to see his face. ‘Where is your coat anyway, huh? I haven’t seen you with it all week. The weather’s getting colder, Sho – and although I’m not complaining? You can’t just keep wearing me – people will talk.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, giving Yuzuru a small dig in his side and looking up at him with a wicked smirk.

‘People talk every time you move, Hanyu’ he pointed out slyly. ‘And anyway, I don’t mind just wearing you. You’re easier to find after I accidentally put you down somewhere, and you’re kind of comfortable to fall asleep on.’ Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him, tickling his side mischievously and laughing when Shoma squeaked and squirmed but didn’t draw away.

‘Yeah, you look real cosy there, Sho,’ he teased, and Shoma whimpered.

‘Shut up, you demon,’ he complained, trying to elbow Yuzuru’s tickling hand away from him. ‘I hate you.’

‘You adore me,’ Yuzuru said airily, wrapping his arms pointedly back around Shoma once more and resting his chin on top of his head. ‘So…your coat?’

‘Huh? Oh!’ Shoma settled back into place against Yuzuru’s chest. ‘Maybe Kazuki’s room…or the library. Could be in Mihoko’s office but she probably would have brought it to me already. I don’t know. I lose track and I don’t really pay enough attention. This afternoon seems like a really long time ago, never mind this morning – I’ve probably left, like, three different ones in three different places by now, honestly.’ Yuzuru laughed, fondly despairing, and Shoma pulled a face. ‘Go away, Hanyu, like you’re so special.’

‘If I go away you freeze to death, Shoma,’ Yuzuru noted blithely. ‘Also? I must be pretty special for you to be holding onto me this tightly.’ Shoma simply groaned and burrowed down even deeper into Yuzuru’s coat.

‘I so need to find a new boyfriend.’ Yuzuru let out a peal-of-bells laugh at that, and it was impossible for Shoma not to smile.

 

The two of them fell quiet for a little while, and Shoma felt himself drifting slightly; the week might have been quiet for the Alliance, but for him and Yuzuru it had involved a lot of meetings and press and complicated discussions, research trips and university work crammed in around ministry papers and constant scrutiny. The peace was a welcome break, the quiet all too easy for Shoma to fall into, and the sound of Yuzuru’s breathing was steady, the rise and fall of his chest and the hum of his lightning a sure and constant lullaby – as though he and Yuzuru had somehow willed it, the ocean below quietened and the breeze stilled, and Shoma was vaguely reminded of daybreak on the morning of Yuzuru’s return, the whole of the Foundation stopped just for the two of them.

‘We should go in soon,’ Yuzuru whispered against Shoma’s hair, and Shoma whimpered an indistinct complaint, nudging against the collar of Yuzuru’s coat with a huff of breath that made Yuzuru laugh. ‘Sho, you’re cold and exhausted; just the once can’t you admit defeat and not make me fight you?’

‘’M fine,’ Shoma insisted with a childish whine, and Yuzuru made a small, sceptical sound from the back of his throat.

‘Wouldn’t you rather play at being a koala bear from the comfort of an actual bed? In the warm and the quiet? Somewhere you can pass out and I don’t have to wake you ‘til morning, maybe?’ he wheedled, and Shoma whined again, squeezing his eyes more tightly closed. ‘Waking you up when you’re in this mood is always a challenge, huh?’ He leant back to coax Shoma’s eyes open with a light graze of his knuckles along his cheek. ‘Come on. I’ll stay with you, I promise – I don’t mind sitting with you ‘til you fall asleep if falling asleep is all you need from your Friday night, ok? And after all: Sota arrives tomorrow, right? I’m not sure you want me to be left alone giving him his welcome tour…people tell me I can be pretty intense sometimes.’ Shoma laughed sleepily, rolling his eyes and nudging Yuzuru with his elbow.

‘Intense would be an understatement, Thunder Boy,’ he yawned, before pausing and narrowing his eyes at Yuzuru thoughtfully. ‘But…you know you don’t have anything to worry about with Sota, right?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, tilting his head thoughtfully.

‘Are you sure about that?’ Shoma frowned uncomprehendingly, and Yuzuru shrugged. ‘He’s your best friend – someone you chose to be in your life. Unlike your brother he’s not stuck with you…which means he has less inclination to put up with me.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, giving Yuzuru a slight shrug and smiling when he felt his shy, sweet laughter vibrate against him in response.

‘Yuzu stop being dumb, ok? Sota’s _my_ friend, remember? He doesn’t have any more time for tabloids and drama than I do. And the only headlines he’s ever paid any attention to about you were the good ones. I promise – you’re going to be a person to him and nothing else, and the worst you can be to him? Is a hero. He knows your speech from the Barcelona summit off by heart, you know. And everyone in our power group always thought you were amazing – we were kids and I think they all thought it was cool to have a superhero who was kind of our own age. I know that’s what it was for Sota but…the others all talked the same way. They talked a lot about you, actually. I was basically the only one of our whole group who couldn’t care less most of the time, honestly – and yeah, I’m aware of the irony so stop looking so pleased with yourself.’ Yuzuru laughed and Shoma pulled a face at him, trying and failing to suppress his smile. ‘But still…now I do care. Because now I know you. And no matter what I said before? You are way more than just chemically-induced insanity to me, you know. And no one is more likely to find me out about it in five seconds than Sota, trust me. He knows me better than Itsuki, in some ways. Just because…he didn’t know me from the moment he was born, he had to actually make the effort to work me out instead of having it forced on him. And he did it the same way you did: bit by bit but also all at once.’ Shoma shrugged, offering Yuzuru a soft smile, a blush creeping into his skin. ‘He probably knows already, honestly. I…don’t think I did a good job of convincing anyone back home that I could forget you.’ Yuzuru’s smile was gentle, even as his eyes glittered with amusement, and Shoma looked down, twisting his lips to one side in an effort to stop his own smile overtaking him. Yuzuru touched a hand to his chin, and Shoma looked up at him through his lashes, his heart pushing insistently at his ribcage when Yuzuru leant into press a lingering kiss to his lips.

‘I’m glad. But it still doesn’t change my mind, Sho. Whether you love me or not, you still need your sleep,’ Yuzuru sighed as he drew back, tilting his head to look impishly into Shoma’s face. ‘You’ll be grumpy in the morning if you don’t listen to me…and I know you don’t want to make me say “I told you so” as I’m pulling you out of bed by the covers tomorrow and dumping you on my floor unceremoniously.’ Shoma snorted.

‘I’m always grumpy in the morning though,’ he huffed, and Yuzuru laughed lightly.

‘Well then you’ll be even worse, and your friend will wonder why he trusted us enough to fly half way across the globe just to be grumbled at.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Honestly I think Sota would be more worried if I was anything other than grumpy before midday on a Saturday, actually. He’s…known me long enough at this point it would be kind of worrying if he didn’t.’ He sighed and rolled his shoulders, yawning ungraciously wide and blinking back to look over his shoulder at the rich dark of the sky and the glinting sheen of stars across its surface – he took a second to drink it in, making sure to remember the skyline and the feeling of the breeze, and then he turned back to look up into Yuzuru’s face with a tired smile. ‘I don’t want to sleep yet – it’s too early and I haven’t seen you all day. But…I wouldn’t say no to blankets and a movie? I’ll even let you talk over it until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.’ Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled, and he leant in, brushing his thumb fondly along Shoma’s cheek.

‘That sounds nice,’ he hummed, dipping in for a small, chaste kiss that somehow intensified Shoma’s blush. His lips curved into a small smile, and Yuzuru smiled back at him, kissing the side of his face and then straightening. ‘Come on then, Sleepy; let’s go.’

 

Yuzuru took Shoma’s hand then, stepping back and tugging Shoma after him, laughing softly when he stumbled and lifting his hand to his lips to press an apologetic kiss to the back of it when Shoma glared at him. There was an ease to it, a falling-into-step, muscle-memory sense of belonging that sank deep into Shoma’s bones as he knocked against Yuzuru and shot him a sly, sidelong smile. He was tired but wide awake, spilling over with a million contradictory feelings which, somehow, when threaded together, became an effortless happiness, a calm and grounding feeling that kept the outside world at bay for a little while. He remembered Jason’s words about happiness earlier and was struck by the truth in them; he pulled on Yuzuru’s hand, bringing the two of them to a sudden halt and tugging Yuzuru to stand closer, determined but steady at the same time. He stretched up to his tiptoes and kissed Yuzuru once – chaste and quick – and took his face in his hands, keeping his touch light and his smile pale.

‘Just so we’re clear…you…you make me happy, Yuzu, you know? You just…you make me happy. It’s that simple.’ Yuzuru looked at him intently, so focused and yet so soft, his smile barely-there yet strangely bright as he pursed his lips together for a moment stepping just a little closer to Shoma and giving his hand a small squeeze, resting their foreheads together. His thumb stroked the back of Shoma’s hand so feather-lightly he had to work not to shiver.

‘You make me happy too, Shoma,’ Yuzuru whispered, taking a care over the words that gave them a kind of weight that made Shoma’s lips twitch up at one corner and his breath catch. The paper planes ran riot inside his chest again, forcing a tiny, overwhelmed squeak of laughter out of him, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him in wild delight, touching his free hand to the square of his jaw in order to tip his face up for the smallest of kisses.

 

As Shoma sank back from the kiss, Yuzuru let out a silly laugh, making a show of steadying his breathing and placing a hand to his chest, blowing out a couple of breaths as he tried to smooth out his expression, and Shoma smiled at him, quietly and completely fond, rolling his eyes and giving his shin a teasing kick. Yuzuru simply laughed again, tipping his head enquiringly in the direction of the walkway, and Shoma gave a small nod, letting out a high laugh of his own when Yuzuru offered his free hand for a quick fist bump that he gladly returned.

‘You’re such a dork.’ Yuzuru stuck his tongue out at him, pulling him a little closer with just enough force that they bumped into each other, sharing a glance before both breaking into laughter, Shoma shaking his head and reaching into his jacket pocket with a sigh and tugging out his fries.

‘So…’ he said lightly, quirking an eyebrow at Yuzuru and shooting him an impish smile. ‘You want to share?’ Yuzuru looked at him for a beat, something wonderous in his eyes that made the colour rise in Shoma’s cheeks again.

‘Shoma Uno – on a Friday night, you’re willing to make me not have to fight for your fries?’

‘I didn’t say you wouldn’t have to fight for them, technically,’ Shoma said slowly, a devilish light dancing in his eyes as Yuzuru laughed brightly. ‘But…maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let you get away with exposing your true nature as a thieving nightmare…it’ll give me good ammunition next time I need to remind someone how truly awful you actually are.’

‘Sho, you’re a horror!’ Yuzuru laughed, and Shoma smirked at him, knocking their shoulders together softly and looking up at him from the corner of his eye.

‘You know there is no one I would rather have mess up my nights than you, right?’ he murmured, and Yuzuru’s expression softened. He leant into Shoma slightly, warm and grateful and sweet, and Shoma leant back. ‘You’re an idiot, but…you get me out of my own head at just the right time.’ He glanced down with a shy shrug. ‘It’s nice. And…even though it’s dumb? It’s…it’s still something important to me.’ Yuzuru smiled, quiet and slow and knowing, but there was a glitter of teasing in his eyes as he leaned in to knock their shoulders together again.

‘You want to know a secret, Shoma?’ He quirked an eyebrow and Shoma looked up at him. ‘I really knew all that already,’ Yuzuru whispered conspiratorially, kissing Shoma’s temple and bumping into his side with a twist of a smile. ‘I actually figured it out the very first time you ever let me steal your fries.’


	9. We All Fall In The End [Part Two]

Shoma was woken up early the next morning by the feeling of heavy, honeyed sunshine warming his face, a thick film of milky gold light pouring in through the window of Yuzuru’s room and falling in a neat square across the bed. He was pillowed on the slight curve of Yuzuru’s back, comfortable and pleasantly too-warm, curled up so close that his cheek was squashed and indented with the wrinkles of Yuzuru’s shirt; he let out a soft, contented hum from the back of his throat, sighing and stretching his muscles by twisting just a little against Yuzuru’s body, and Yuzuru huffed slightly in his sleep. Shoma opened his eyes just enough to get a blurry view of the room through his eyelashes, yawning and tipping his head to look at Yuzuru, a small smile pulling at his lips as he took in the wild sweep of his dark hair and the sullen way he frowned against his pillow. The two of them had somehow managed to push the covers from the bed overnight, leaving them half-caught around their feet and spilling over onto the floor in a messy heap, and Shoma reached down to tug one of Yuzuru’s many blankets free from the tangle before kicking the duvet off of him; the blanket was Shoma’s favourite, a stupidly soft, plush fabric in a curious shade of sepia pink, with Yuzuru’s name embroidered in yellow at one corner – it smelt of the garden and Yuzuru’s shampoo, of midnight jasmine and Sunday mornings. Shoma was certain Yuzuru had picked up on his fondness for it, because every time they camped out under his blankets watching movies together until ridiculous hours, it was always the first one he would pull out, handing it over to Shoma wordlessly like it was the official opening of their little late-night ritual. Sometimes it even found its way into Yuzuru’s backpack, and he would drape it around Shoma’s shoulders when he was falling asleep over his coursework in the garden, or tuck it around him when he arrived late to the Team Japan picnics as the sun was going down and Shoma was too lost in his game to notice himself shivering.

 

As Shoma settled back, he crawled a little way up the bed, smirking when Yuzuru made another vague complaint of a sound, pushing his face into his pillow with a squashed pout and a sigh; he was lying on his stomach, his legs stretched out and his body twisted into the slightest hunch around his pillow, somehow managing to look stormy and peaceful all at once. Shamelessly Shoma nudged at him, nestling his head against Yuzuru’s neck and digging his chin petulantly into his shoulder, smirking slightly as Yuzuru let out a faint groan, pushing back against him just enough to dislodge him from the pillow, forcing his weight more onto his shoulder. Shoma smirked, wriggling into the space Yuzuru had created and fitting his body neatly against Yuzuru’s back once more, the blanket twisting around his legs and tickling at his cheek as it fell away from his shoulders slightly. The room looked hazy beneath the dreamy glow of early morning sun, and Shoma liked the way every surface felt smooth and warm to the touch, as though the edges had been rubbed off the world by the fullness of the peace. Beneath the swirl of the faintest of dust motes and the cool emptiness of the sky outside the window, Shoma felt a calmness settle inside him; the sunlight pooling over him and Yuzuru was faintly edged by a trace of their two powers, he realised, and although the energy of it acted as a shield, he could sense healing in it, the mixture making it like a buffer, muffling the sounds of the outside and somehow amplifying everything inside.  He smiled, shaking his head slightly and letting himself sink back against Yuzuru, eyes turning down to the strangely blunt solidity of him; Yuzuru was usually a squirming ramble of commas and dashes and semi-colons, but lying next to Shoma in the morning quiet he was suddenly without any of those trappings, though still somehow surrounded by the same aura of possibility – even rough-edged and pouting he was still curiously ethereal, lightning tracks all over him.

 

Shoma was about to close his eyes again when he noticed how Yuzuru’s shirt had become twisted, the fabric pulled down so that the gold lines of his power mark were visible, almost seeming to shimmer in the morning light, and for a moment Shoma simply stared at the golden wings, something about seeing them there sending a tremor beneath his skin; they were a reminder of everything Yuzuru stood for, a reminder that this person who was always falling still somehow kept trying to fly. He reached out like he couldn’t not, his touch reverent and gentle as he delicately dragged a fingertip along the lines, watching in hushed wonder as they began to shine, the wings stretching out and fluttering beneath the path of his fingers, a small fall of feathers drifting off them and dissolving into Yuzuru’s skin in stardust clouds. Yuzuru let out a sleepy hum, and although his eyes stayed closed, Shoma could feel the slight shift in his energy, and for a moment he paused from his tracing in order to glance up at Yuzuru’s face, watching some hint of alertness come back into his features and the colour grow a little brighter in his cheeks.

 

With a small, slow smile, Shoma began to gently drag his fingertip across Yuzuru’s skin again, tapping his other fingers along the gold lines with a soft but deliberate drum, his expression shifting to something fond and mischievous as he caught the brief shiver that ran through Yuzuru’s body.

‘Yuzu,’ he mumbled against Yuzuru’s shoulder, but Yuzuru kept his eyes closed, the only flicker of movement in his features a fractional twitch at the corner of his lips when Shoma pressed a tiny whisper of a kiss to the dip of his shoulder, his fingers pausing for a beat as he did it, pressing just a little more firmly into Yuzuru’s skin. ‘Yuzu, are you awake?’ Shoma whispered, tipping his face upwards so that the words ended up mostly muttered into Yuzuru’s neck, making Yuzuru squirm and whimper just slightly as Shoma’s breath tickled at him.

‘No,’ Yuzuru told him sulkily, wriggling against Shoma in protest, and Shoma laughed, stretching up to kiss his neck. Yuzuru made a whiney sound. ‘Shoma.’ Shoma smiled fondly, looking back down at his power mark with a sigh and going back to skimming his fingers lightly along its outline. Yuzuru huffed, but the grumpy edge had gone, and he sounded mildly more awake than he had before, a hum running through him as he shifted slightly against the pillow.

 

Yuzuru was better at hiding it, but he was no more of a fan of mornings than Shoma was, and there was a curious thrill in seeing him petulant and groggy, something gorgeous in the way his features rounded out and his voice lost its sure edges. His hair stuck to his forehead in dramatic black streaks that shaded his eyes, and his nose wrinkled slightly in a way it only did when he was still half-asleep; Shoma couldn’t help but feel strangely proud of himself when he heard the sigh of defeat as Yuzuru finally blinked his eyes open – it was like he had just won the most pointless battle of wills, and it meant everything to him. It was one of those moments to give permanence to, he knew.

 

Yuzuru pushed himself up just enough to lift his head and turn to face Shoma, settling back against the pillow and regarding him with a muzzy frown for a beat, watching as he continued to study the path of his fingers across Yuzuru’s power mark. ‘Sho, what are you doing?’ he asked through a yawn, and Shoma shrugged, tugging at the blanket and pulling it up over the two of them with a shy smile, lifting his gaze to Yuzuru’s face and marvelling at the way the light filtering through the blanket tilted the colour pallet of the world, lighting Yuzuru’s features in sunset pinks. He looked like the ocean at dusk, and Shoma stretched up to press a kiss to the still-wrinkled line on his nose. For a beat the whole world was gold and sepia pink, and everything smelt of jasmine and bergamot.

‘I don’t know, maybe I’m just…waking you up,’ Shoma whispered, pulling back just enough to look back up at Yuzuru with a twitch of his lips. ‘Waking you up and…taking a moment.’ He shrugged as best he could against Yuzuru’s side, and Yuzuru pursed his lips, his eyes smiling as he looked down into Shoma’s face. ‘Hi,’ Shoma managed, and Yuzuru let out a breathy huff of laughter. He pulled one arm out from under his pillow to lightly tap two fingers to the beauty marks on Shoma’s cheek – there was a fizz of lightning and a rumble of thunderous healing in the touch, and Shoma shivered against it happily.

‘Hi,’ Yuzuru told him, hushed and sweet, the look in his eyes gentling but his smile vaguely roguish. He pressed a kiss to the point between Shoma’s eyebrows, his hand sliding slowly down to Shoma’s neck. ‘Good morning, Shoma.’ Shoma’s smile twitched a fraction wider, his cheeks suddenly hot as a blush crept up from his neck to his jawline, and he sighed – contented and sleepy and faintly overwhelmed – before tucking himself back down against Yuzuru’s shoulder; he rested his forehead to Yuzuru’s blunt chin, and his smile widened slightly as Yuzuru tipped his head just enough to plant a kiss that was half to his forehead and half to the top of his fringe.

‘Morning,’ he mumbled back, the word half lost beneath Yuzuru’s arm, which was resting across him protectively as he ran his fingers through Shoma’s hair. Shoma’s eyes fluttered closed, his eyelashes grazing Yuzuru’s skin and making him shiver. Shoma hummed against the electricity of Yuzuru’s touch in return.

‘You woke me up just so you could fall asleep again?’ Yuzuru asked through a gentle laugh, and Shoma made a small, soft sound from the back of his throat, nodding as best he could from where he had burrowed himself against Yuzuru’s body.

‘It’s still early,’ he murmured. ‘And I wanted you closer.’ Yuzuru laughed again, the sound a low vibration that ran through Shoma’s bones.

‘You’re sweet sometimes, huh,’ Yuzuru whispered back, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Shut up, I’m awful. Don’t go ruining my reputation on top of everything else, Thunder Boy.’ Yuzuru laughed, kissing his forehead again before letting out a sigh of his own and settling back against the pillow. ‘Five more minutes is probably ok.’

‘No – twenty-five,’ Shoma said, his voice still muffled and soft but a slight, wicked twist to his lips. Yuzuru let out another laugh, the sound high and silly as it vibrated though his body.

‘Sho, why is everything always some sort of a challenge between us?’ he asked, before pausing for a beat. Shoma could almost hear him fighting the urge to take the bait, could feel the curve of his smile against his skin. ‘Fine: fifteen?’ Shoma laughed softly.

‘Twenty.’ Yuzuru hummed in consideration before tightening his hold on Shoma ever so slightly.

‘Deal.’ Without opening his eyes, Shoma lifted his little finger up, and his smile widened as he felt Yuzuru hook his own around it immediately.

 

In the end it was probably only ten more minutes of golden-pink peace and the tickle of Yuzuru’s breathing across his skin that Shoma actually managed to indulge in before their quiet morning was shattered by the sound of someone’s phone clattering and trilling unapologetically loud from somewhere outside their protective world of arms and blankets, and both of them groaned in unison, Shoma burrowing further into Yuzuru’s chest and Yuzuru pushing at him childishly in return.

‘It’s _yours_ ,’ Shoma whined, and Yuzuru shook his head slightly, making a croaky “Nuh-uh” sound from the back of his throat and pushing vaguely at Shoma in protest.

‘Mine’s on “Do Not Disturb”,’ he mumbled. ‘Just leave it and go back to sleep.’

‘But it might be important; what if it’s Mum…or Sota?’ Shoma asked. His eyes were still closed, and his words were mostly lost against Yuzuru’s neck, but still somehow Yuzuru seemed to understand him, letting out a whinge of a sound that was so close to Shoma’s ear the vibration of it tickled.

‘Then they probably want you to answer your phone and not me?’ he suggested huffily.

‘But I don’t want to get up.’

‘Well neither do I, so tough; answer or let it ring out, but I’m not moving.’

‘You’re a terrible boyfriend.’

‘Good. Maybe I’ll get my bed to myself again at last.’

‘Shut up, you monster.’ Shoma tried to kick at him, but Yuzuru was having none of it, smirking just a little as he reached out to poke at the soft, sensitive spot just beneath Shoma’s ribs that always made him yelp and squirm.

‘Never,’ he declared decisively, letting out a laugh as Shoma groaned and curled in protectively, rubbing at the spot Yuzuru had attacked and wrinkling his nose.

‘I hate you.’

‘I know. Now answer your phone already – I’m going back to sleep.’ Yuzuru nudged him away from his side insistently, and Shoma whined and pouted, rolling onto his back.

‘ _Yuzu_.’ But Yuzuru simply opened one eye and stuck his tongue out at him before grabbing a fistful of blanket and rolling over, curling up and taking the blanket with him. ‘I’m never kissing you ever again,’ Shoma muttered to the lump in the blanket where Yuzuru’s hunched-up form was, and he got a soft elbow in the side in return.

‘Can’t hear you: sleeping.’ Shoma smirked despite himself, rolling his eyes before letting out a yawning groan and twisting across to pick up his phone from where it was rattling along the bedside table, coming precariously close to falling off. Without his glasses and with the morning light assaulting his still-stuck-together eyes, Shoma couldn’t make out much of the screen, but he didn’t need to in order to know who it was: there was only one person in the world who would make Shoma’s phone ring for this long first thing in the morning without giving up.

 

‘Itsuki, what do you want?’ Shoma asked the moment the call connected, propping himself up on his elbow and squinting down at the blurry outline of his brother’s unapologetically smug face as he smiled at him with a pointed brightness he didn’t need to find his glasses to see.

‘And a super-good morning to you too, Big Brother.’ Itsuki pulled a face. ‘Well, ok, it’s not morning here but…time difference sucks for you, I guess.’

‘Thank you for your unending compassion,’ Shoma deadpanned, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. ‘Do you need something or are you just here to be a gigantic pain?’

‘I’m your baby brother, it’s my mission in this life to be the biggest pain I can to you at all times,’ Itsuki shrugged idly. ‘Sorry, Sho, I don’t make the rules.’ Shoma rolled his eyes and flopped back against the pillow with a huff, smiling just a little despite himself.

‘Sure, and you seem really devastated about following those rules, huh.’ Itsuki laughed.

‘Leave me alone, Idiot,’ he sighed, wrinkling his nose up in irritation. ‘I actually am dumb enough to miss you – be nice to me.’ Shoma smirked slightly, fond but devilish as he shook his head.

‘Not going to happen,’ he said dryly. ‘The older brother gets to gloat when you realise how much better he makes your life; that’s in the rules too.’  
‘Mean.’

‘What did you expect when you called me this early, huh?’ Itsuki pursed his lips, tipping his head slightly in consideration.

‘Um…’ He ran his fingers through his fringe and screwed his face up slightly. ‘Honestly? I think I was half expecting Yuzu to answer your phone for you instead. I was kind of looking forward to getting him to wake you up so I could watch you take your boyfriend’s head off.’

‘Brat.’

‘Disaster.’

 

Shoma laughed softly and Itsuki stuck his tongue out at him, his eyes twinkling with unreserved glee but his smile oddly gentle as he moved to rest his chin on his hand.

‘So….speaking of Yuzu…’ He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Where is he anyway, huh? I thought you guys were, like, glued together at the lips or something these days.’ Shoma shot his brother a weak glare.

‘What, my company not good enough for you so you want me to wake Yuzu up too?’ he said archly, running his fingers through his fringe. Itsuki narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Wait: so did you finally realise he was way too high-maintenance for a troll like you and stage a break-up, or did I finally manage to get you away from you superstar boyfriend at last?’ Shoma opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, he felt Yuzuru stir beside him with a low, muffled groan, and he turned to look over at him, biting back a smile when he tugged the blanket down and stuck his head up just enough to appear in Shoma’s camera shot, his hair sticking up in wild tufts and one of his eyes still closed.

‘Hey: superstar boyfriend in the room, thank you,’ he announced in a groggy, plaintive voice, and Shoma pursed his lips, taking a sidelong glance at Itsuki’s alarmed expression and fighting back a laugh. ‘Just making my presence known in case you want to revise whatever you were about to say about me that you didn’t think I was going to hear.’ Yuzuru quirked an eyebrow at Itsuki, whose expression fell somewhere on the spectrum between chagrin, amusement and fondness. ‘High-maintenance? Really?’ Yuzuru’s lips curved up in a devastatingly sweet smirk, his voice all wicked amusement but his eyes shining with quiet affection. ‘You know, you could be nicer to the person who spent half an hour trying to explain one simple calculation to you the other day, right?’

‘I could be, but I think it’s important to keep you in check, just in case you wake up one day and realise you’re actually way out of my brother’s league.’

‘Hey!’ Shoma yelped, and Itsuki shot him an unapologetic smirk.

‘Sho, you’re, like, a tiny, grumpy cave-goblin and he’s…Yuzuru Freaking Hanyu. You need to come to terms with the fact that your chances were billion-to-one and you clearly fluked your way in,’ he shrugged, and Shoma scowled at him.

‘Since when did you care that Yuzuru is Yuzuru Freaking Hanyu anyway, huh? You only realised he was something to do with the Foundation when Mum asked if I’d met him yet the first time I called home from here. Direct quote: “Wait, that guy from the clip-shows who never stops talking?”, I’m pretty sure.’ Yuzuru pulled a face, shooting a low glare at Itsuki and flicking Shoma’s arm reproachfully.

‘Hey, Yuzuru Freaking Hanyu is still in the room, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ he said, rolling his eyes, and Shoma smirked, elbowing him back.

‘How can I forget when you’re trying to cover me in bruises, huh?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, elbowing him in return and fighting a laugh as Shoma jostled with him, pinching his arm and making him yelp and try to tickle his side.

 

Itsuki groaned as the two of them fought playfully in a tangle of limbs and blanket, and after a moment he cleared his throat pointedly.

‘Yuck.’ Shoma shot him a glare and Itsuki stuck his tongue out at him. ‘Whatever, you two are gross and obnoxious and I’m within my rights to complain.’ Yuzuru smiled softly, casting Shoma a sidelong glance and scrunching his face up at him.

‘What is it with your family and the social graces, huh?’ he teased, and Shoma smacked at him.

‘Hey, we know how to be polite. You just bring out the worst in us.’ Yuzuru snorted, poking his cheek, and Itsuki laughed his loud, stupid, carefree laugh. If Shoma ever needed to try to define what home was, he thought that that moment might just be it, his downturned lips curving into a soft smile immediately as he glanced over at Yuzuru and realised he felt the same full happiness reflecting back from him. ‘Shut up,’ he murmured, eyes darkening just a little as he met Yuzuru’s delighted gaze, and Yuzuru narrowed his eyes at him as if in challenge. Shoma had to work hard not to laugh.

‘Oh my God: stupid secret superpower people with your Spidey-senses, please remember there are innocent eyes in the room,’ Itsuki interrupted, and Shoma quirked an eyebrow at him.

‘Ok, first of all: since when were your eyes ever innocent? And second of all? I’m never talking to you ever again.’ As Itsuki and Shoma pulled faces at each other, Yuzuru watched them with quiet amusement.

‘You two are cute,’ he declared, and both Itsuki and Shoma turned to him, open-mouthed and outraged.

‘Yuzu!’

‘Superpower Boy!’

‘We will end you!’

‘Yeah – what Shoma said!’ Yuzuru laughed at the two of them, his face crinkling up as he flicked Shoma’s ear mischievously.

‘Nope: definitely cute,’ he nodded, quick and silly, and Shoma pinched his arm, making him laugh a little harder. ‘I’m not changing my mind, you’re adorable,’ Yuzuru insisted, shaking his head determinedly, his lips pressing into a line as he tried to smother his smile and his sparkling eyes skimming Shoma’s features impishly as Shoma attempted a glare.

‘Well I guess one of us has to be adorable, since you’re just downright annoying, huh?’ he huffed, but he was smiling, and Itsuki wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Way to defend the family reputation, Sho: you managed two whole seconds of glaring at him before it was back to the heart-eyes.’ Shoma shot his brother a wicked smile.

‘One day, I’m gonna catch you making faces at someone you like, and you will remember this moment and wish you hadn’t decided to mess with me,’ he said dryly, and Yuzuru laughed, leaning in to kiss his temple.

‘And on that note…’ he sighed, pushing himself up just enough to grab his glasses and his phone from his bedside table.

 

Yuzuru studied his phone screen for a moment before letting out a soft, exhausted huff and flopping back beside Shoma. ‘I have to go get ready – Tracy wants to see me for more check-ups, and I told Ghislain I would go see him too.’ He shot Shoma a tired, lopsided smile, lifting one shoulder in a shrug, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Check-ups? Why?’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘Don’t look so worried – Tracy’s just on-edge and she’s dealing with it by worrying about me, and the ministry are on her case to rerun stuff with their people present so they can satisfy themselves that any press release is their handiwork not mine, since they’re apparently tired of “running around after me” or whatever excuse it was this week for not trusting me. I swear that’s all it is: I’m fine and still fully Shoma-healed, and you have my permission to lie-detect with your power if you want to, I don’t mind.’ Shoma sighed, nudging against Yuzuru slightly and shaking his head.

‘It’s fine, I trust you…just…don’t fail her checks, ok? Because I can’t deal with having to heal you again and trying to dodge her questions about it for the rest of the week.’ Yuzuru offered him a gentle smile.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, kissing the bridge of Shoma’s nose, and in the background Itsuki groaned petulantly.

‘And we’re back,’ he remarked dryly. ‘I think you two stayed away from each other for almost a minute that time, huh? I’m impressed.’ Shoma pulled away from Yuzuru just enough to glare at his brother warningly, but Yuzuru simply laughed, giving Shoma’s cheek a quick peck.

‘Seriously – I need to get ready,’ he sighed, and Shoma nodded before Yuzuru glanced back at Itsuki and widened his eyes pointedly. ‘There, you got rid of me,’ he teased. ‘But text me how you did in your maths test later at least, huh?’ he added, casting a blinding smile Itsuki’s way, and Shoma could tell his brother was secretly grateful for the thoughtfulness of the offer despite the way he groaned.

‘Can we not go there?’

‘That bad?’ Yuzuru asked through a sympathetic wince.

‘It was dumb. I remembered what you told me but…only, like…five minutes after the teacher called time-up. I hate exam conditions so bad, I can’t focus.’

‘It probably wasn’t as bad as you think but…let me know when you get the results, ok? I can break down your percentages for you and work out exactly what kind of margin you’re going to need to increase to get the grade you want.’ Itsuki smiled somewhat shyly and gave Yuzuru a small nod.

‘Sure…thanks…I’ll tell you as soon as I know,’ he mumbled, and Yuzuru nodded back, flashing him a wink.

‘You better.’

 

As Yuzuru got up from the bed, Shoma instinctively reached out and caught his hand, causing him to spin back and offer him a mildly perplexed smile, tilting his head and quirking an eyebrow. For a moment Shoma stared up at him, taking in the gold-edged softness of him in the morning light; the way the light fell through the window made him too bright at his edges, softening his features and making him look like he was made of lace and painted silk, something delicate and pretty and flittering. There were still sleep-creases in his skin and his hair was a mess of fluff and fringe, but there was still something glorious about him, like the warmth of the sunlight had drawn all his thunder close to his skin, dragging the storm in him to the surface, but also the electricity, which radiated off him like summer heat. Shoma tugged just a little on his hand and Yuzuru let out a small surrender of a laugh, allowing his body to be tugged down just enough for him to lean in as Shoma stretched up to press a kiss to his forehead. He lingered for a beat, smiling at the way Yuzuru’s skin still smelt of the mixture of morning sun and bergamot that lingered on the blanket before slowly drawing back to smile up at him unfocusedly. Yuzuru smiled back, eyes glittering in the sunbeams that fell across the sweetness of his face in brilliant gold, and he reached out to graze Shoma’s cheek lightly with his fingers. ‘Talk to your brother before he hangs up on you,’ he said gently, and Shoma laughed, nodding faintly and looking down. Yuzuru squeezed his hand, lifting it a little and bending in to press a kiss to Shoma’s power mark before taking a step back and letting their fingers slide apart. He got as far as the door to the bathroom before Shoma called out to him.

‘Oh, Yuzu!’ Yuzuru turned with the door half-closed, leaning back around it with an impish grin. ‘Could you get my-’ Before Shoma could even get the words out, Yuzuru had already disappeared around the door and popped back, effortlessly launching Shoma’s glasses to him from across the room with a knowing grin, and Shoma laughed as he lurched forward to grab them.

‘Nice catch,’ Yuzuru smiled, and Shoma rolled his eyes at him, still grinning even as he shook his head in a gentle show of despair.

‘You’re such a pain.’ Yuzuru scrunched his face up happily, nodding like the word was a prize, and Shoma tried and failed to suppress a smile, biting on his lip and rolling his eyes again. ‘Alright already; stop being so pleased with yourself and go.’

 

There was a slight pause, the silence in the room pierced only by the dull sound of the shower starting up and the distant calls of the birds out over the ocean. Then Shoma glanced back at his brother, who smirked wryly and leant in a little towards his phone.

‘So…can I say “Ew” yet or is that not allowed?’ he stage-whispered, and it was enough to finally break Shoma out of his haze, making him let out a high but somewhat indignant laugh as he pulled a face at his brother, trying to pretend he couldn’t feel the heat still left in his face where Yuzuru’s cool fingers had drawn a blush to the surface. Itsuki sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘And I thought you had it bad _before_ he nearly went and got himself killed.’ Shoma winced and Itsuki offered him a small, apologetic look, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly.

‘Sorry, I just…’ He paused, eyes turning down for a moment and a small frown coming over his features. ‘I guess I’m just worried about you, that’s all.’ Shoma blinked, taken aback slightly at the genuine edge in his brother’s voice and the way he couldn’t quiet meet his eyes, and his brow furrowed as he tilted his head in confusion.

‘Huh?’ Itsuki simply shrugged, biting his lip and scrunching his face up in a vague, uncomfortable expression that made Shoma roll his eyes. ‘Itsuki – when have you ever been afraid to tell me exactly what’s on your mind? If anything you’re too honest. So pull yourself together already.’ Itsuki laughed softly, turning his eyes skywards and letting out a small whine, and Shoma sighed. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you worried about me all of a sudden?’ he pressed, his voice gentling just a little, and Itsuki finally looked at him, the reticence seeming to fall away from him the moment he met Shoma’s eyes and his mouth pulling into a firm, thoughtful line as he studied his face for a beat.

‘You promise you won’t get mad at me and then not talk for a week?’

‘I mean, I’m not gonna swear on my life or anything – I don’t know what you’re gonna say.’

‘Sho,’ Itsuki huffed, and Shoma smirked, rolling his eyes.

‘Fine. I won’t get mad at you, ok?’ he said, voice gentling a little. ‘Come on, stop being dumb: putting your foot in it is your main form of transportation, right? So just go for it so I can roll my eyes and tell you I’m fine already.’ Itsuki screwed up his face in mild irritation, shooting Shoma half-hearted glare.

‘Like you’re so tactful, huh? Leave me alone.’

‘I might not be tactful, but I’m honest,’ Shoma shrugged. Itsuki’s shoulders sagged slightly as he made a vague whimper.

‘Why do you have to be so stubborn?’ Shoma smiled slightly, widening his eyes at his brother jokingly.

‘You’ve met our mum, right? Pretty sure it’s been coded into me since birth.’ Itsuki let out a laughing groan. ‘Come on, Idiot – talk to me. Just because I have Yuzu to look out for me doesn’t mean I don’t need you too. And just because I’m on the other side of the planet doesn’t mean I don’t need your opinions on stuff. Talk to me the same way you would if I was home, ok? I mean…it’s either that or I get Yuzu to work some of that scene-causing magic he does so well and have us first-class overnighted back home so I can come hound you in person…relentlessly.’ Itsuki’s lips twisted to one side, a little of his normal roughish sparkle returning to his eyes.

‘You wouldn’t.’ Shoma shrugged.

‘I’d pretend to everyone in charge that it was all Yuzu’s idea but…’ Shoma shrugged, his smile devilish but sweet, and he and Itsuki shared a soft, knowing look before Itsuki laughed self-consciously, shaking his head and glancing down with a small sigh.

 

In the warm glow of his bedside lamp, Itsuki looked younger, softer – less the instigator of childhood misadventures and more the brother who Shoma had once sat with in the hospital waiting room after he broke his arm, keeping him from crying by showing him dumb card tricks that were so deliberately bad Itsuki had had no choice but to let out sniffles of laughter and rest his head on his shoulder. Shoma had always felt protective of him, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea that he had made Itsuki worry; he was the older brother, and it was a job he had taken with solemn determination even when he was a kid. The two of them had always been close enough that certain stereotypes of older and younger didn’t usually apply – but Shoma was always the defender, the bodyguard, the worrier, the one who stood behind his brother with dark eyes and a thunderous frown for anyone who dared even think about making Itsuki cry. In return Itsuki had never taken him for granted, had always treated him as his best friend and his confidante – he needled at him, he mocked him, he dragged him out of the house when he didn’t want to go, but he also always listened, took Shoma’s views and problems seriously and earnestly wished for the best for him, even when he didn’t understand his choices, sticking up for him even when it was obvious to everyone he was wrong. But in that moment Shoma couldn’t help but worry that something had shifted somehow, that maybe the two of them had become dislodged in the short time since he’d been home – somewhere in the chaos, Itsuki seemed to have forgotten it wasn’t his job to worry, seemed to have forgotten he was supposed to be Shoma’s optimistic side, his pusher and his biggest, brattiest fan. ‘You’re not feeling weird coz of Yuzu, right?’ Shoma asked suddenly, gentle and kind, his eyes searching Itsuki’s face worriedly.

‘Huh?’ Itsuki frowned, tilting his head in confusion, and Shoma shifted slightly, pulling the pillow to his chest and flopping forwards to lie on it with a huff that was only lightly edged with exasperation.

‘I know he’s been around every time you called lately…but it’s not like you can’t tell him to go, you know? He’d understand, if you wanted to talk to me alone – nothing’s changed. I was your brother before I was his boyfriend, and Yuzu’s my boyfriend _because_ he gets that stuff. And because he knows my little brother is a needy brat who might ask him to get lost sometimes. So just…be yourself and speak up; shy doesn’t suit you, you know. And Yuzu won’t mind going to study somewhere else ‘til we’re done.’ Itsuki let out a silly, high laugh – genuine and honest and incredibly similar to Shoma’s own laugh when he was overwhelmed, a little of his usual stubborn self-confidence falling away from him. ‘Itsuki: talk to me,’ Shoma said, frustrated, and Itsuki shot him a lopsided smile, rolling his eyes.

‘It’s not Yuzu, ok? He’s cool. It’s kinda nice having him around when we talk; you’re happier when he’s around, even if he’s just hanging out in the back listening to music and finishing his coursework. Besides, I think I could get used to having a second big brother, you know? I even like it when you both gang up on me. I like feeling like we’re all family – and I like knowing that you have someone who feels like family out there whilst you’re so far away from home.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a small blush of a smile, and he glanced down somewhat shyly, giving a vague bob of his head.

‘Good. That’s…a relief, honestly.’ He blew out a breath, looking back up at Itsuki with slightly narrowed eyes. ‘But if it’s not that then…what is it? What’s such a big problem you don’t want to just talk to me about it?’

‘Sho, stop making it into a bigger deal than it is – I’m not bothered about Yuzu and I’m not holding back some giant secret. I just…don’t want to make things awkward, you know? That’s all.’

 

Shoma sagged slightly, puffing out a mildly annoyed breath and resting his chin against the pillow. He narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to look at Itsuki thoughtfully, his stare just intense enough to make Itsuki pull a face at him. ‘Come on, Loser, can’t you just drop this and be a normal big brother who asks me lame questions about my friends and what Mum cooked for dinner tonight?’ he pleaded, and Shoma pursed his lips.

‘You’ve known me your whole life and you still have to ask that question?’ he deadpanned. Itsuki wrinkled his nose, looking down at his sleeve and picking a loose thread from it with more care than was strictly necessary. ‘Hey, Moron: you do realise that being my brother means you can tell me anything, right? I can’t promise to agree, I can’t even say for sure that I’ll understand. But I’m not going to hold how you feel against you; if you’re worried about me for whatever reason, how I can be mad about that? I know anything you tell me will be because you care. And that’s enough.’ Itsuki’s smile softened, a kind of silly fondness colouring his face for a moment that made Shoma smile in return, widening his eyes a little at him for emphasis. ‘I’m still the same person who took the fall for you that time you broke our bedroom window playing a really ill-advised game of indoor basketball with your friends, you know. And the one who came to pick you up early from school to get you out of handing in that essay you forgot to do…then hid all the evidence from Mum and Dad afterwards. I snuck you out to that party when you were grounded. And got you home that time you and your friends went on that trip to the beach Mum explicitly told you not to go on. I healed the cut you got the night your crappy friends ditched you and you got stuck out all night, and I somehow got you home in time to make your hockey game too. I helped you get revenge on the guy who told everyone at school who your crush was, I ended that kid from that summer sport club thing who made you think you didn’t deserve to make team captain…I have your back even when you’re the biggest pain, ok? That’s not changing just because you say mean things about my boyfriend. I mean, I get it, Yuzu can be pretty annoying, right?’ Itsuki laughed, looking at Shoma with a lopsided and faintly despairing grin.

‘You really don’t quit do you,’ he sighed. Shoma lifted one shoulder in a tired shrug.

‘Only to sleep. But you woke me up already, so make it worth my while: what’s bugging you? No dodging the question, no pretending it’s not a big deal. Just the truth, even if it’s going to piss me off.’ Itsuki scrunched his face up and Shoma widened his eyes back at him, pushing himself up a little to better make out Itsuki’s face in the fuzzy late-night light.

‘I like Yuzu, ok? I’m not worried about that. I like how much you like yourself when you’re around him…I like that you’re happy and that, even when he’s just come in from meeting the president of some country somewhere, he’ll still dump his stuff down and then ask me about my school day, like it’s on the same level of his problems, no airs or graces.’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘I’m just…I guess I just keep wondering…’ Itsuki bit his lip and looked down again, swallowing hard, and Shoma tilted his head, a frown furrowing his brow.

‘Wondering…?’ Itsuki huffed.

‘I’m just wondering what happened to him being dusk and summer, ok? I’m wondering where my dumb, pessimistic brother with his cynicism and his realism and his sense of self-preservation went…and if he took all his fears out the door with him or just…buried them to come back to bite later.’

 

Shoma blinked in surprise at his brother for a moment, lips parting as he opened his mouth then quickly closed it again, swallowing and pulling the pillow closer to his chest. He bit at the inside of his cheek and took a steadying breath, glancing away. He could feel Itsuki watching him nervously, eyes assessing and uncertain, but he couldn’t quite meet his gaze; it still bruised slightly – to remember that first night back in Japan, to draw those words back into his mind and let the echo of those feelings reverberate through his bones. It hadn’t gone away; his certainty that Yuzuru was the last weekend of the last week of summer, sun-soaked and glorious and fragile – the most brilliant thing, turning away and fading out. Shoma would never be ready to say goodnight, but the dusk would still turn to darkness. The sun would set. Summer would end. The world would keep turning and nothing would stay the same. ‘You see: that look on your face right now? That’s what scares me,’ Itsuki said softly, looking down with a sad smile and a shake of his head. ‘And that’s also why I didn’t want to say anything – I didn’t want to make you look like that again, not after I pushed you so hard to admit how you felt, admit how he felt. I didn’t want it to seem like I encouraged you to go back and to be with him just to turn around and…remind you of all the reasons it’s hard.’ Shoma sucked at his bottom lip, his expression a flinch and his eyes dark.

‘Except that’s exactly what you’re doing,’ he whispered pointedly, and Itsuki made a small, irritated sound of objection.

‘Sho – you said I could be honest with you, ok? So I’m being honest. I get that I’m being a giant hypocrite and you have the right to point it out but…just don’t be mad at me, ok? I’m just…trying to watch your back. Because nothing’s changed, right? He’s still…the guy who is expected to save the world…and he’s still human. And you’re still someone who could get his heart broken forever by giving yourself too much to lose and not having any kind of safety net.’ Shoma still couldn’t quite bring himself to meet his brother’s gaze, focusing instead on the pattern he was tracing on the pillow in front of him, and Itsuki made another mildly disgruntled sound from the back of his throat. ‘Sho, I’m just trying to make sure you still have your eyes open, ok? I want you happy but…I know better than anyone how hard you take things when they don’t go your way. I know how hurt you’re going to be if you don’t make sure you see the road ahead and know what’s coming.’

‘I know what’s coming, ok, I just…I’m choosing to remember that you can have a summer that you end up talking about for the rest of your life. And maybe it ended but…you still lived it. That’s enough for me.’

‘And you’re sure about that?’ Itsuki asked in a low, kind voice, concern cracking a little at his edges. ‘And you’re not just telling yourself that so you can deal?’ Shoma looked determinedly up at the ceiling and Itsuki grimaced slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. ‘Sho…what you’re going to give up is so much bigger now – and you were already overwhelmed by it before.’

 

Itsuki paused a moment, looking Shoma up and down with steady, thoughtful eyes; he was more like himself again now, sure and unapologetic, and Shoma winced back from the intensity of it. Itsuki groaned. ‘I’m sorry. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut I just…I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Shoma whispered sadly, looking back at his brother from the corner of his eye and giving him a small, sad little shrug, his lips twisting up slowly at one corner. ‘You’re just…being the pessimistic brother for a change.’ He pulled a face. ‘It’s good to know I taught you _something_ , right?’ Itsuki returned his smile with a small, wistful one of his own.

‘Yeah, well…maybe I’m finally starting to appreciate what it takes to see the world the way you do. It’s pretty brutal sometimes, you know? To look at someone you care about being happy and have to automatically think “How can I protect them from this if it backfires?” – being patient isn’t really my style and…it takes a lot of willpower to admit the world kinda sucks sometimes and still be stubborn enough to keep living in it.’ Itsuki pursed his lips, glancing down with a shy smile. ‘But then…you always have been the bravest person I know so…’ He shrugged and Shoma suppressed a smile of his own, shaking his head slightly.

‘Stop being soft and go back to telling me off,’ he muttered, and Itsuki laughed, rough and tired, running his fingers through his fringe with a sigh.

‘Nah, I was mostly done.’ He pulled a face. ‘I guess it’s just seeing you two being so…together. It makes me nervous because I can see exactly what you might be giving up, you know? I mean…when was the last time you even spent the night in your own room? When was the last time you fell asleep and didn’t have him right there?’ Shoma flinched slightly, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling Yuzuru’s blanket a little more firmly around his shoulders. He turned his face into the aching familiarity of its softness, breathing in the heavy warmth and the hint of jasmine and letting it steady him. ‘It feels like you’re investing in forever…with someone whose destiny is to not last longer than a sunset.’

 

Shoma sank down slowly, resting his chin back on the pillow and taking a moment to sense Yuzuru’s lightning, enjoying the warmth of his drums beating down on the edge of his consciousness, sending a dull vibration along his skin.

‘Do you know what you’re asking me to try and doubt?’ he asked softly, his eyes unfocused as he gazed into a point in the middle distance. He drew in a steady breath, smiling slightly at the smell of Yuzuru’s shampoo on the pillow as it mixed with the heady warmth of jasmine from the blanket. He slowly raised his eyes back to his phone screen, blinking rapidly until his brother’s face became clear again. The poor lighting of their childhood bedroom made Itsuki’s outline blur into the background slightly, but his expression was clear and familiar to Shoma – it was something trusting and hopeful, the expression of someone who was desperate to be told they were wrong about something even if they knew deep down they weren’t. Shoma was suddenly painfully aware of that fact that – despite their relationship of equals – he was definitely the big brother here. It was his responsibility to go first, to live outside of the safety of their home and to finally trust someone as much as he trusted their family. He was the leader in a way he never usually had to be; he was the teacher here, the path-maker. His bold, outgoing, loud-mouthed baby brother hid it well, but he was as scared as everyone else of growing up, of facing the fact that people left and risks didn’t always pay off and often the world could be cold and cruel. Change happened, time moved on – yet still no one in the world was quite as equipped for it as they looked. Not even his dumb, fearless little brother.

 

Shoma took a deep breath and tried to remember all the pieces as they had fallen into place inside him; the steady thrum of Yuzuru’s energy at his back was a calming, reassuring force, a gentle reminder of all the reasons he didn’t doubt his choice anymore. ‘You think you’re telling me to question something temporary, to limit what I take from something now because it’ll be gone later…and maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m making all this space that will end up empty. Maybe I’m getting too used to not sleeping alone. Maybe I’m setting myself up for pain and loss and something I…I absolutely don’t want to have to face. But that doesn’t take away the good…it doesn’t change that it happened, and it was worth more to me.’ Shoma licked his lips, looking down at the sheets in front of him and blowing out a breath. ‘No one has ever looked at me how he looks at me, Itsuki. No one has ever said hello the way he did the night we met – not just like I was someone known but…like I was someone it was something special to know. A challenge and a prize…something precious and broken and good. Every time he says my name it’s the same. And I guess we’ve already proved I can’t un-know that, right? I can’t help…coming back to him. And he comes back to me too. Even in the dark. Even when I’m lost or exhausted or overwhelmed.’ Shoma shook his head, giving a small, soft smile. ‘How do you go back to “fine” being enough after that? How do you go back to just existing, only ever being maybe 80% of yourself? When someone has shown you what everything feels like? And made you live…like, really live, I mean. Even if it was only for a little while.’ Shoma shrugged, meeting his brother’s gaze again, helpless and earnest. ‘He looks at me and I know who I am: I’m the person he sees. I’m built to be boundless, Itsuki. I feel things too deep and too much. I keep pushing forwards even when it hurts. And I have to live my life with my heart always close to being broken – because I staked it on the things I believed in, even in a world that had no time or sympathy for how fragile they were.’

‘And what about when it hurts? What about the morning you wake up to empty space?’

‘He’ll come back to me,’ Shoma said, his voice a tight fracture of a sound but still somehow something determined. His forehead pinched into a frown and Itsuki still looked worried. Shoma smiled at him slightly, letting out a puff of laughter and drawing in a steadying breath, his eyes turning up to the ceiling. ‘In the end, everything ends, you know? Dwelling on it doesn’t make it less sad. You have no choice but to hold on to the memories. And what you do to make it better…is you hold on to as many as you can. Catch them in your teeth if you have to – grab hold of so many moments that you have no choice but to let go of a few of the thorns along the way. And eventually, what’s left in your hands is only the good. There can be a million stars in your sky, you know? But the patterns you see, the constellations you trace? That’s up to you.’

‘And that’s enough? That makes the pain worth it?’

‘Pain happens when you let something matter to you – because the universe isn’t ours to control. Maybe we wish we weren’t thrown in with these people and these places at total random because…if there’s some pattern to it then then that would reassure us that we could find these things again, that there’s a path to follow and some reason to the madness…instead of just happenstance and broken things.’ Shoma licked his lips, looking down thoughtfully. ‘Maybe I would find him again, though; maybe give me a hundred lifetimes, a million years…and I would still end up next to him, fighting with him…falling for him. Maybe the universe would have no choice – as long as Yuzu is Yuzu and I’m me, I think maybe we might always just make that bit more sense together. I don’t know though – because that’s not really how the universe works, and destiny isn’t something I want making my choices for me. So all I can go on is what I’m living in now, what I understand now. And right now? I understand that I can stargaze for a lifetime, have him come back to me forever – but only if I give myself stars to gaze at, only if I let myself have him with me whilst I can. You can’t let someone come back to you if you don’t let them be with you in the first place – and to come back at all, someone has to leave.’ Shoma swallowed hard. His skin was buzzing with electricity and the sense of time dragging, only for once it had nothing to do with power – this was that very human sense for an approaching ending, the realisation that the world would always keep turning, even when you didn’t want it to. ‘He’s it for me, Itsuki. And I can’t make it not true by walking away before I have to.’ He shrugged. ‘I fell in love with a storm because that’s the way I’m built to love, I think. I’m made to chase thunder, to never bother rebuilding from the rubble because I’m too busy watching the horizon, trying to see where the lightning went.’

‘That’s how shipwrecks happen, Sho,’ Itsuki pointed out, gentle and far from cruel, and Shoma offered him a wan smile.

‘Then come find me on the rocks and say “I told you so” later. I don’t care anymore. He makes me happy.’ He shrugged. ‘I want to be happy.’

 

Shoma took a moment to feel the heat of the sun on his face, shivering slightly as the blanket grazed across his cheek when it slid a little from his shoulders; for a heartbeat the whole world was sepia-pink and gold again, just like it had been when he had been lying pressed close with Yuzuru before, balancing on the edge of sleep and safe from the world outside. He could hear the sound of the ocean in the distance, could feel the air in the room beginning to grow stuffy; Yuzuru kept his air-con low because of his asthma, and by mid-morning the air in his room was always thick and stifling, something oddly intoxicating about the stillness of it that Shoma secretly enjoyed. He remembered jolting awake two mornings ago to the memory of frost inside his chest and letting the heavy heat calm him down, Yuzuru stroking his fingers through his hair and murmuring “I’m here” into his shoulder until his breathing evened out. Itsuki was right, he didn’t know how he was going to cope when that was taken away from him, except that he would no doubt be forced to repeat those same words for himself and hope they still contained the spell they had when Yuzuru whispered them.

 

‘I want you to be happy too, you know,’ Itsuki said into the hush, and Shoma looked up at his face, taking in the heavy-lidded, exhausted smile he gave him and smiling back despite himself. ‘I know I was the one who kept telling you to go for it and kept pushing you to admit he was your boyfriend – I know it was me who was trying to convince you he loves you and telling you to go back to him. I’m not going back on any of that, you know, I’m just…’ Itsuki shrugged. ‘Dad is weirdly chilled out about all this. And ever since you started letting him be around when you call them, Mum has been more certain than ever that Yuzuru Hanyu is one of the best people on the planet…so I can’t see her being the one to tell you to protect your heart any time soon. And I guess I just thought…someone should be that voice. Even if it doesn’t change anything I…I know you like to make your decisions with all the facts on the table so…there it is, you know? Facts on the table. And now it’s done with and it hasn’t changed your mind…I’m free to go back to calling you an idiot and pretending to throw up every time I have to watch you two forget that oxygen is a thing people need to survive.’ Shoma let out a bubble of a laugh, groaning slightly and rubbing a hand over his face.

‘You’re such a baby,’ he muttered, eyes shining warmly as he looked at his brother through his fringe, and Itsuki shrugged, his features a mixture of sweetness and mischief that Shoma recognised well.

‘If I’m such a baby, why’d you put up with me, huh?’

‘Because genetics dictates it?’ Shoma suggested dryly, and Itsuki stuck his tongue out at him, giving a dismissive shrug.

‘You like to act tough, but don’t forget: my whole life, even when I really didn’t deserve it? You have always been on my team. You’ve had a soft spot for me ever since Mum and Dad brought me home from the hospital.’

‘Back when you were small and cute and watching over you didn’t involve being mocked relentlessly, maybe,’ Shoma shot back with a wrinkle of his nose. ‘But then you went and ruined it by growing up.’

 

The two of them shared a smile for a moment, both a little amused and a little exhausted; there were too many years of growing up together behind them for any of Itsuki’s pushing to grow teeth and become heavier than it needed to be, and the peace in that was not dissimilar to the peace Shoma had shared with Yuzuru the night before, a sense of nothing being resolved but everything being settled. Itsuki flopped down onto his stomach in a mirror of Shoma’s pose, his eyes narrowing just a little as he brought his phone a little closer to his face. Shoma saw his hair was matted, and there were shadows under his eyes, and he wished he was back in Japan for just a heartbeat, so he could press a little gentle healing into his forehead to help him sleep and wear away his exam-season-ragged edges.

‘So…you really do love him, huh?’ Shoma blinked in surprise, tilting his head to one side and giving Itsuki a confused look.

‘Hadn’t we already established this much?’ he pointed out dryly, and Itsuki shrugged, pulling at the skin of his bottom lip and glancing down with a twitchy curve of his mouth, the expression somehow not quite a smile but not quite anything else either.

‘I mean…we’d established he was your boyfriend but…you didn’t really tell me how you felt for sure. Mum says you didn’t have to, and Dad nods along with her and says it’s “big love”, whatever that means. But…you tell me everything usually. So I guess I was just wondering why you’re holding back on this one.’

‘Itsuki,’ Shoma said, a soft groan of a sound. ‘I wasn’t not telling you, I just-’ He cut himself off with a wince, looking out of the window for a beat. He drew in a deep breath, worrying at his bottom lip as he tried to unpick it. ‘Telling you was the last defence, I guess,’ he whispered. He glanced back at Itsuki, who frowned at him slightly, gesturing for him to go on, and Shoma sighed, rubbing a hand of his face and brushing his fringe from his eyes with delicate fingers before meeting Itsuki’s gaze once more. ‘If I didn’t tell you…it was like maybe there could still be one door left with a latch on. One lock he didn’t rattle open, you know?’ Shoma’s smile turned wonky and damp. ‘But he’s Yuzuru Hanyu. He has almost all the keys and a knack for lock-picking, and I’m an idiot for thinking a closed gate would stop him.’ He glanced down. ‘Locked gates didn’t stop me, after all.’

‘Sho, I don’t-’

‘Telling you makes it real. You and him; you’re the two people in the world who…who have to know my stories. The two people I always want to tell things to – the two people I most want to be heard by.’

‘So?’

‘So…I told Yuzu. That was one half of the equation. But if I didn’t tell you…then there was still a chance I could change my mind. I could go back to Plan A and maybe try that really boring, un-remembering life after all.’ Shoma laughed dryly, shaking his head. ‘But…I don’t know why I even want that option open when I’ve already proven it won’t work. So…yeah. I love him. In that sort of way that digs its heels in. And hangs around. And means…everything to me.’

‘That sort of forever way?’

‘Yeah,’ Shoma breathed, so soft the sound was mostly just a sigh. ‘Yeah, that sort of…I’m probably never getting over this and it’s going to hurt to know it’s never coming around again way. And now you know so…I guess it’s real. More real, anyway.’ Itsuki offered him a tiny smile, and he returned it with a tired, slow blush of a thing.

‘Sho-’ Itsuki began, and Shoma groaned faintly, his shoulders sagging a little.

‘Itsuki,’ he grumbled. ‘If you’re about to tell me to be careful or realistic or whatever form of preaching caution we’re onto now-’

‘But Sho-’

‘No. I don’t want to hear it: I know how I feel. Outside of our family? He is the only person I don’t need any checks or filters with. And just like family, that feeling deserves to be given permanence – it’s my home, it’s where I belong. And…it’s always going to be part of me.’ He sucked at his bottom lip, eyes turning back down. ‘Yuzu fell in love with me in too-long sleeves and yesterday’s t-shirts, making snarky comments about everything he does and playing games instead of paying attention to the maths problem he’s stuck on. He’s loved me when I’ve been the absolute worst version of myself, and when I’ve looked him in the face and told him goodbye – and none of it ever dented his belief in the best version of me still being in there, or his complete conviction that the most important thing to him was that I was happy. He wants me to be who I am even when that hurts him, Itsuki. And I want the same for him too.’ Itsuki’s brow was furrowed slightly, and Shoma let out a small, overwhelmed little laugh, the sound caught in the back of his throat and his cheeks suddenly hot and raw. ‘You know, one day, when you’re in love with someone? I’m going to remind you of this whole conversation. And I’m going to gloat _so hard_ when you start trying to say how no one understands.’ He flashed Itsuki a dark, dry smile, and Itsuki wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Never going to happen; I’m never falling in love with anyone, it looks like way too much hard work to me.’ Shoma laughed, widening his eyes at him pointedly.

‘Er, you know who you’re talking to, right? You think this was part of my life plan?’ Itsuki grinned, tipping his head slightly in acknowledgement.

‘I guess love has no respect for your plans, huh?’ Shoma pulled a face.

‘No: Yuzuru Hanyu has no respect for my plans,’ he smirked archly, and Itsuki let out a laugh.

‘I’ll tell him you said that.’

‘I’ve said worse to his face.’

‘Have you said better to his face, though?’ Itsuki asked then, his tone bratty and wheedling but his expression intent. ‘Better, like…have you told him everything you just told me? Or did you pull your usual Shoma and hope bare-minimum wordcount, handed in late and with food stains on the paper would be enough?’

 

Shoma opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a single word out, the two of them were interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening, and Shoma looked up with a start, his breath catching slightly as he laid eyes on Yuzuru, lean, damp and smiling roughly as he emerged in a cloud of bergamot and steam. Shoma sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes flicking briefly across the sinewy, elegant form of him, shirtless and dripping as he towelled his hair dry with enough force to leave it feathered and fluffy and falling across his face in paint-streak-dark strands; his body was muscle and grace, a thing of force and fragility, all rag-doll arms and determination, and, still wet from his shower, his skin seemed to glow in the morning light, beads of water forming a sheen of glitter across it that made his power mark seem to dance and turned every subtle shift of the muscles in his back into a strangely wonderous thing. Shoma’s eyes followed the curve of his waist and the blunt square of his shoulders, lingered over the still-dripping strands of fringe and the faint storm-cloud of a bruise blooming on his left elbow; messy, delicate and quick, it was Yuzuru at his ragged-edged best, and Shoma had to work hard to suppress the urge to move to him, to not press up against the solidity of his chest and breathe in the thick scent of soap and steam, pulling himself up by Yuzuru’s shoulders and tiptoeing to touch his forehead to the soft, damp strands of his fringe, taking a shameless thrill from the smooth, damp sheen over his pale skin. And then, out of the corner of his eye, Shoma spotted Itsuki’s vaguely enquiring expression, and he quickly caught himself, widening his eyes at him pointedly and hoping the cut-throat motion he managed with his hand whilst Yuzuru was distracted with digging out a sweater to wear would be enough to deter his brother from saying anything about their previous conversation. ‘Please; like he would be dumb enough to have not waited behind the door listening in anyway,’ Itsuki muttered, and Shoma shot him a pointed glare before glancing sharply back up towards Yuzuru, hoping he hadn’t heard his brother’s dig. Yuzuru looked back at him immediately, catching his eye as he pulled a light, stretched-out-sleeved sweater over his head and offered him one of those bright, secret smiles that set off the bells in Shoma’s head; he looked at him in that faint, electric way that made Shoma’s lungs forget their rhythm for a moment, and he smiled back, shy but full, pursing his lips together and shaking his head a little, his fringe falling in his eyes as he quickly looked down. ‘Wow. I can’t believe my cynical, sarcastic, anti-social mess of a brother is about to turn into an actual puddle…it’s almost cute? But…mostly horrifying. No, actually, it’s definitely just horrifying. I need eye-bleach, right now. And you need to put your eyes back in your head already,’ Itsuki remarked, and Shoma shot him a dark, near-murderous look that only made Itsuki laugh. ‘Oh if only he knew, huh?’

‘Shut up,’ Shoma told him through gritted teeth, eyes wide and faintly furious, but Itsuki only snickered, suddenly every inch the fearless little brother once again.

 

As Yuzuru closed his closet door, he turned back towards Shoma like it was choreography, offering him a bright, faintly amused smile, one eyebrow quirked in a faux-innocent show of curiosity as he tipped his head sweetly to one side.

‘You know, if you look that guilty when I walk in the room, it makes it pretty obvious to me that you were just talking about me…right?’ he said, half-throwing himself down onto the bed beside Shoma. Shoma let himself be bounced against the mattress, shooting Yuzuru his best attempt at an unimpressed look.

‘He was just telling me all about how annoying you are, Superpower Boy,’ Itsuki offered with a sly smirk, eyes glinting gleefully as he leaned in towards his camera a little to angle his head Yuzuru’s way. ‘Pretty sure he’s dumping your dramatic ass.’ Yuzuru’s smile didn’t falter, something silly and delighted shining in his eyes as he nodded slowly like he was considering the concept, and he licked his lips, tapping a finger to his chin as he regarded Shoma out of the corner of his eye.

‘Dumping me, huh?’ He shrugged, folding his towel and tossing it behind him on the bed with a light hum before looking back at Shoma with an impish smile. ‘Well in that case, I’m going to need my blanket back, I guess. And at least ten of my jackets. And I’m probably going to have to ask you to give back my key and get off my bed.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Bite me, Hanyu.’ He tugged the blanket around him a little more tightly, and Yuzuru laughed, bright but gentle, bending to press a kiss to the scowl on his forehead then pulling back to smooth out the furrow there with his fingers. Shoma drew in the mist of bergamot and orange, the cloud of damp warmth radiating off Yuzuru’s skin intense and thick, the scent fresh and clean and somehow soothing – his eyes closed for a moment, and he let out a soft hum, feeling himself relax just a little into the touch.

‘Do I get to stay after all?’ Yuzuru asked him teasingly, and Shoma blinked his eyes open, fixing him with a soft smirk and rolling his eyes slightly.

‘God, you’re clingy,’ he mumbled, aiming an elbow vaguely in Yuzuru’s direction and trying not to smile when Yuzuru let out one of his most musical laughs. He looked gorgeous and sun-soaked, his edges all gold and glimmer and his eyes two dark, delighted crescents. Shoma’s ribs ached with the effort it took to keep his breathing even, and Yuzuru pursed his lips, scrunching his face up at him.

‘You know, someone lying in my bed, under my blanket, whose stuff is all over my room should maybe be careful what accusations they throw around, right?’ he said, flicking Shoma’s ear, and Shoma yelped, reaching out blindly to shove him away, the two of them laughing as they jostled. In the background Itsuki let out a groan.

‘You two are such dorks.’

‘Shut up, Itsuki,’ Shoma muttered, eyes glinting. ‘Or I’ll tell Mum you’re calling me instead of revising.’

‘It’s Saturday night, give me a break, ok?’ Itsuki grumbled, and Shoma let his head loll to one side in a lazy show of consideration.

‘Only if you give me a break about my boyfriend,’ Shoma challenged. Itsuki pulled a face.

‘Not happening; I need to exploit the novelty of you having a boyfriend – it’s probably not going to last long, as soon as he figures out how big of a disaster you are,’ he whined, and Shoma shot him a piercing glare.

‘Interesting that you think I don’t know exactly what kind of disaster Shoma is,’ Yuzuru remarked idly, leaning back on his hands, one of his arms planted the other side of Shoma’s body so that Shoma could feel the heat of his skin against him. As Yuzuru shifted, his arm brushed past Shoma’s hip at the point where his shirt had ridden up, and Shoma shivered against the tickle of it, glancing up at Yuzuru; he didn’t meet his gaze, but his lips curled up slightly at one corner, and his eyelids were heavy, eyes dark and sparkling. ‘Maybe I know exactly who your brother is and spend time with him because of it, not despite it – had you considered that?’ Yuzuru arched an eyebrow at Itsuki, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile at that cool, dangerous look on his face; Yuzuru somehow knew his brother well enough to understand the petulant push in him was something more protective than possessive, and he took it as a personal challenge, happy to prove himself time and again. ‘I found him wearing a bad mood and too-long sleeves and chose him just the same – he’s my best friend because of it.’ Shoma blinked in surprise, looking up at Yuzuru with wide eyes, and Yuzuru frowned down at him, tilting his head curiously. Shoma swallowed.

‘You…weren’t actually listening from the other side of the door, right?’ he asked, and Yuzuru blinked at him for a beat before crumpling into the softest of laughs, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head.

‘Pretty sure eavesdropping on your conversation would be kinda mean-spirited of me, Sho,’ he smiled, lifting one shoulder in a lazy shrug before frowning slightly, looking Shoma up and down with an impish smile. ‘Why; what have you been saying about me?’

‘Just that you’re his best friend too,’ Itsuki interrupted, gentle but firm. ‘And that maybe his know-nothing little brother should butt out and have a little faith that he knows what he’s doing for once.’

 

Though it didn’t ease his blush, Shoma still relaxed slightly, the faintest twist of a smile briefly ghosting across his lips as he looked up at his brother and gave him a small, grateful nod; Itsuki was a nuisance, he was opinionated and loud and he loved to embarrass Shoma whenever he got the chance, but he cared, deeply, and even though he was the younger brother, he didn’t think that meant he had any less of a duty to go to war if Shoma needed him to, even if the war was as simple as accepting that the world was cruel and Yuzuru mattered enough to Shoma for him to face it anyway. He glanced up at Yuzuru then, and saw him smiling, soft, knowing and quiet, his tongue poking out just briefly as he licked his lips, eyes narrowing a little as he tipped his head in thought.

‘You know, my sister had this boyfriend once. He used to call me “the stick insect” but…he wasn’t mean, exactly. Just moody.’ Yuzuru pulled a face that was somewhere between guilt and amusement, and Shoma smiled up at him from under his fringe, suddenly profoundly fond. ‘I kinda liked to pick at him sometimes; nothing too bad, just teasing. It’s not like I was around that much anyway. But when I was he complained about it so…I complained right back.’

‘What happened?’ Itsuki asked, and Yuzuru caught his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at the ceiling with a playful wince.

‘Um…he kinda got so annoyed with me bugging him that he started refusing to see my sister whenever I was in town.’ Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled and he shrugged, flashing Itsuki an amused smile. ‘My sister told him he was dumb enough to pick a fight with me he should suffer the consequences, and when he told her she should be sticking up for him? She dumped him and the two of us went out together that day instead.’ Shoma smiled, nudging at Yuzuru slightly, and Yuzuru nudged him back, flashing him a quick wink before looking up at Itsuki once more. ‘The point is? You’re allowed to butt in. You can even pick a fight with me if you want. You’re Shoma’s brother, and you’d kind of be doing the job wrong if you didn’t make his life a little bit more difficult sometimes. You’re even allowed to do it just to be a pain and not because you’re looking out for him – every now and again, anyway.’ He shrugged blithely. ‘But as far as I’m concerned? It doesn’t change anything. I can fight my own battles if I have to, but I understand why I don’t really need to with you. Because in the end, Shoma will always have you: that’s as much as part of his identity as his stubborn streak, and it’s as unchangeable as the colour of his eyes. Given that fact…it wouldn’t seem fair of me if I expected you to not have an opinion now, would it?’

 

A slow, warm smile spread across Itsuki’s face, and he gave Yuzuru a small nod, something shy about his expression suddenly as Yuzuru smiled back at him kindly. It wasn’t often that Shoma got to see any sort of diffidence in his brother – and as kind as Itsuki was, as genuine and sweet as he could be, he was rarely soft the way he was around Yuzuru, and Shoma felt an immense rush of affection for Yuzuru’s patient easiness with his brother, for the curious even-older-brother relationship he had quietly chosen to build with him. Shoma knocked an elbow into Yuzuru’s side, and when Yuzuru glanced down at him enquiringly he smiled, lifting one shoulder in a shrug and miming a “Thank you” at him. Yuzuru’s expression was achingly full, his brown eyes dancing and deep and his lips a delicate twist of cherry-blossom pink; he offered him a quick, conspiratorial wink, leaning in just a little to knock against him. ‘You’re welcome,’ he whispered softly, before straightening up once more, his expression shifting into something sunny and sweet – open and gold in the morning haze. ‘Ok, I’m going to be late and Tracy is going to lock me in a hospital room for a week if I don’t go, like, five minutes ago.’

‘Is that even possible?’ Shoma laughed, scrunching his face up like he was trying to do a sum, and Yuzuru stuck his tongue out at him, flicking his forehead.

‘Er, when you two are around? Pretty sure anything is possible,’ Itsuki smirked, and Yuzuru smiled, amused and sly as he looked at Shoma out of the corner of his eye.

‘I mean…he’s not wrong,’ he said, and Shoma rolled his eyes, jabbing an elbow in his side.

‘Just _go_ already, Hanyu, before I have to jailbreak you from your hospital bed just to kiss you. Again.’ Yuzuru laughed, bending down to press a kiss to Shoma’s temple.

‘Ok; I’ll probably miss morning meeting whilst I’m with Ghislain but…meet me for breakfast after? We can get pancakes?’ Shoma’s expression softened, and he smiled, giving Yuzuru a small nod.

‘Sure. That sounds nice.’ Yuzuru smiled back at him, holding out his hand and offering Shoma his little finger, and Shoma laughed, pulling a face but still shifting awkwardly in order to hook his finger around Yuzuru’s for a beat before knocking his shoulder against him. ‘Go; I’m not helping you hold time to get there – I’m tired and Tracy scares me,’ he said, biting back the grin from his lips, and Yuzuru laughed delightedly, nodding and making a grab for his backpack from where it sat at the foot of the bed.

‘Oh, Yuzu – before you go…’ Yuzuru had his backpack over his shoulder and was about to leave when Itsuki stopped him, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, but his brother ignored him, choosing instead to offer Yuzuru his best attempt at an innocent smile, his features creasing into the smallest of winces. ‘I have this problem I’m stuck on in my Power Politics essay and I was wondering if I could go over some stuff with you? It doesn’t need to be in until Wednesday but…’ He shrugged, and Yuzuru offered him a smile that was somehow despairing and kind at the same time, rolling his eyes and giving a small shrug.

‘Of course. Send me what you’ve got so far and we’ll work out a time to talk, ok?’ Itsuki’s smile brightened and he nodded quickly, seeming to sag slightly in relief.

‘You don’t have to do that, you know,’ Shoma pointed out gently, shrugging when Yuzuru quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Itsuki did his own homework just fine before you came along – just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean you don’t have the right to tell him no. I won’t be mad at you for it; he’s my responsibility, not yours.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, putting his head on one side as he hummed in consideration.

‘Maybe he is. But…I think it’s kinda nice to be wanted for something that’s just…normal, for once.’ He shrugged, glancing at Itsuki with a scrunched-up smile before looking back at Shoma quietly. ‘You two both treat me like I’m just a dumb, boring human like everyone else…and kinda make me feel like you actually like that about me. It’s nice, and it matters to me.’ Shoma’s lips twitched up, and he nodded understandingly.

‘Emphasis on the dumb part, though,’ he muttered, reaching up to give Yuzuru a gentle shove and biting his lip to fight off his grin when Yuzuru laughed one of his silly, head-back, honking laughs.

‘Oh definitely emphasis on the dumb,’ Itsuki nodded dryly.

‘You are a tough audience, Uno Brothers – probably the toughest I’ve ever faced…and I once gave a talk to a bunch of US ministry investors who had been promised an audience with Nathan,’ Yuzuru beamed, raking a hand through his hair and wincing at the mess it was before leaning in to press one more kiss to Shoma’s forehead. ‘Don’t fall asleep again when you hang up on your brother, ok? And bring the blanket. We’re going to the garden tonight, I think.’ Shoma’s smile softened, and he bobbed his head in a nod. ‘Be good, Itsuki,’ Yuzuru added as he got to his feet, and Itsuki stuck his tongue out at him.

‘Don’t get yourself killed, Hanyu – at least not ‘til I get my essay done, anyway,’ he shot back, and Yuzuru gave him an airy sigh.

‘You people have so little faith in me.’

 

There was a slight pause as the door clunked shut behind Yuzuru, and Shoma let his head drop down onto the pillow, closing his eyes for a moment and humming happily against the feeling of the sun on his back.

‘Sho?’ Itsuki said, hesitant and quiet, and Shoma shifted just enough to open one eye, looking at his brother expectantly. ‘Just…please try not to get your heart broken? Ok?’ Shoma offered him a tired smile, sitting up with a low, thoughtful sigh.

‘I’m starting to come to terms with it, honestly,’ he whispered. ‘Hearts can break and people can leave and not every ending is going to be happy. But your history doesn’t get erased with the sunset. You can forget the order of the words or the colour of the t-shirt…what you had for lunch, what bus you took to get there. But the feeling? What being there meant to you? That can’t be lost or taken, not really.’ He met his brother’s gaze then, his smile sad and his eyes earnest. ‘Nothing inside is forgotten – nothing inside is _ever_ truly gone just because it ended. Even if the sky falls in, I know I can still go back to any Friday night with Yuzuru I like, because I gave them all a meaning. Inside. So what if my heart breaks? The important part is…time. And me and him will never run out of time. Not if I remember. Heartbreak or not, he deserves to be something that lasts forever. And he will be, to me.’

 

After hanging up on his brother, Shoma allowed himself a moment in the peace and stifling warmth of the bedroom to close his eyes. He liked how stuffy it was; there was something calming about the way nothing seemed to be able to move in the dense atmosphere, and he allowed his eyes to close, enjoying the fuzz of golden sunlight at his back and the soft brush of Yuzuru’s blanket against his cheek. He knew he was going to end up falling asleep again – face-first in Yuzuru’s sheets and with his phone still clutched in one hand – but, despite Yuzuru’s parting warning, he simply couldn’t muster the energy to fight it. Yuzuru, however, always seemed to be able to muster the energy for a fight; Shoma wasn’t sure how many minutes of sleep he managed before he was jarred awake by a wild electric kick to the bottom of his skull, the sensation so bright and absurdly happy it seemed to reverberate through his bones. Yuzuru was pure vibration, and Shoma was the tuning fork he took out his momentum on, and he groaned into the blanket, pulling it up over his head and curling in. His phone chimed a moment later: “Get up, Sleepy” followed by a heart which Shoma knew all too well was put there with more impish glee than soft affection. He huffed, turned his phone face down against the bed and closed his eyes, focusing in on his own power for a moment and pushing at it, bringing his sunlight to the surface of his skin and directing it outwards, edging it up to the boundaries of where Yuzuru’s lightning lingered at the far reaches of his consciousness and turning it into a rolling wave of warmth. He put enough energy behind it that he was certain it would leave Yuzuru’s senses scalded for at least an hour, and he smirked slightly to himself when his phone chimed again, this time with a blunt block capital “MEAN” followed by an “And also OW” and then eventually “Even Tracy’s monitors felt that you demon” that made Shoma feel oddly proud. He rubbed at his eyes, staring down at the messages for a moment and feeling everything inside his chest press against his ribs, fighting to climb outside of himself and forcing a soft, overwhelmed little laugh out of him. He tossed the phone back onto the bed, blowing out a breath and rolling onto his back, biting back the dumb smile on his lips before taking a second to close his eyes once more, this time sending a wisping thread of gentled light Yuzuru’s way, the sunbeam open and edgeless and laced with just a hint of his healing power. He heard thunder in his ears by way of a thank you and his smile grew even wider.

 

With Yuzuru’s lightning lively and loud in the morning air, Shoma reluctantly dragged himself from the bed and set about digging through his things for something to wear. He spent enough time in Yuzuru’s room that a lot of his stuff had ended up left there, and it had got to a point where Yuzuru had taken it upon himself to group his things together in neat piles, one on the window ledge and another on the bathroom counter, folded and stacked and re-folded again after Shoma had messed up the heaps each morning rummaging through them. But even with half his stuff in Yuzuru’s room, he was still in need of doing laundry, and, after rummaging for a solid five minutes, he gave up and dug through Yuzuru’s closet, picking out a dark sweater and selecting a jacket from Yuzuru’s collection, silently praying none of Team Japan noticed his sweater-paws were even worse than usual. As he left the room, he fired off a quick “I’m leaving. Early. Happy, Hanyu???” with a picture of himself looking nonplussed outside Yuzuru’s door, and for his troubles he got an “Ecstatic” and a picture of Yuzuru beaming down at his phone with a silly, exaggerated smile and a genuine sparkle in his eyes, and Shoma was secretly delighted, suddenly not so irritated by his early start. He got into the lift and allowed himself to sink into the corner of it with a contented sigh, tucking his phone back into his pocket and using the time it took to reach the ground floor to sneak in a quick nap he hoped Yuzuru wouldn’t find out about.

 

Shoma was still half asleep by the time he stepped out of the lift and into the lobby, and he grimaced as he reached the door to the entryway, squinting his eyes against the sudden assault of the daylight on his senses and screwing his face up in distaste; he pushed through the doorway backwards, lazily leaning his weight back against it and spinning out into the space beyond with a low, exhausted groan. He was yawning and not entirely looking where he was going when, as he turned away from the door, he found himself crashing into the back of someone with a dull thud, and he blinked in mild bewilderment as the person turned, beaming at him delightedly.

‘Shoma!’ Jason’s ridiculously happy voice was brighter than the dazzling sunlight pouring in through the main entrance doors, and Shoma blinked at him, his face scrunched up and one eye closed as he ran his fingers through his messy fringe. He was vaguely aware of Misha and Evgenia standing in the background, also looking at him in mild amusement, and he bobbed his head vaguely in their direction before glancing back to Jason with an awkward shrug.

‘Hi?’ he ventured through another yawn, and Jason laughed softly, shaking his head in fond despair before his eyes briefly flicked down to Shoma’s sweatshirt. Shoma saw a brief look of recognition on his face, and he tensed in anticipation of some tease being directed his way, but Jason simply offered him a gentle, knowing smile instead, quickly shifting his expression before Misha or Evgenia noticed anything was amiss and instead giving Shoma his best put upon sigh, widening his eyes mischievously.

‘Shoma: the sun is shining, birds are singing, it’s finally the weekend – what do we have to do to get a “Good morning” out of you, huh?’ Shoma pursed his lips, letting out a laughing groan and rolling his eyes.

‘Make it not be this early?’ he suggested.

‘And a good day to you too, Sleepy Head,’ Evgenia laughed. ‘Would it kill you to smile? It’s Saturday!’ she wheedled, eyes sparkling with impish glee, and Shoma wrinkled his nose at her.

‘It’s Saturday morning and I’m conscious, what more do you want?’ he asked dryly.

‘Well he’s got us there,’ Misha smiled. ‘Plus I’m pretty sure he had a late one last night: Yuzu had that look on his face like he’d been allowed to talk someone’s ear off all night when I saw him earlier.’

‘Really? Because to me that looked more like the look he gives when he’s been allowed to kiss Shoma’s face off all night, but what do I know, huh?’ Evgenia smiled, sly but sweet, and Shoma felt his cheeks growing hot.

‘He looked _happy_ ,’ Jason said, gentle yet determined, his expression somehow a smile and a warning at the same time as he placed a hand to his chest. ‘Me personally? I would say that’s all that matters.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a shy half-smile, and he looked down at his feet self-consciously, scuffing the toe of his shoe along the floor.

‘This much is definitely true,’ Evgenia nodded, sincere and firm. Shoma glanced at her from the corner of his eye and she offered him a small smile. ‘I mean, I’m not sure I would be so happy if I had to go and prove my health and power levels to a bunch of stone-faced ministry officials first thing on a Saturday morning, so if he is smiling even through that? Then I’m happy for him. He deserves it after the crap the Alliance pulled.’ Shoma couldn’t help the curve of a smile that touched his lips at that; there was a combination of heart and steel in her that he both admired and instinctively understood. ‘He was a useless lump when you left here, you know,’ she added then, matter-of-fact, and Shoma blinked in surprise. Misha elbowed her lightly and she shrugged. ‘What? It’s true,’ she said simply, looking over at Shoma with an earnest, unapologetic expression. ‘It’s true,’ she repeated firmly. Shoma bit at his lip, nodding slowly.

‘Ok. But…you say that like he’s not a useless lump 90% of the time anyway,’ he shrugged, sly but gentle, and Evgenia’s eyes sparkled gleefully.

‘Oh, I am so glad he picked you for a boyfriend – someone who flat-out adored him would be no fun at all,’ she grinned, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile back slightly, glancing down. ‘Don’t worry, though: I swear I haven’t told anyone who didn’t already know. We’re all Yuzu’s friends here, right? So it’s cool. But I would never run my mouth off in public, I promise.’  Evgenia mimed locking her mouth shut and throwing away the key, and Shoma let out a small, shy laugh. ‘Trust me, as someone who once got photographed hugging him at a summit and had to see him squirm whilst he was put through a whole press conference of questions about it? I get it – so your secret is safe with me. You two should be allowed that much; you’re good for him, and I’m happy for you guys – you should be spared the gossip, honestly.’

‘Yeah, which is why anyone with a US flag on their jacket is off-limits besides Jason and the Shibutanis,’ Misha offered, knocking his shoulder into Evgenia.

‘Like I would waste my time talking to Team USA anyway; no one wants to get involved in that mess,’ she shot back, rolling her eyes, and Jason let out a wounded yelp. Shoma smirked slyly.

‘She’s not wrong though; your team are crazy,’ he pointed out, and Jason pulled a face.

‘This is coming from someone on Team Japan? Really?’ Shoma shrugged.

‘We’re not crazy, we’re wild, that makes all the difference.’ Jason narrowed his eyes at him, trying and failing to hide his smile.

‘You’re a horror, Shoma – what does Yuzu seen in you?’ Shoma shrugged.

‘Mostly that I’m the perfect height for him to lean on when he’s been standing up for too long at photo-calls, I think.’

‘Oh, so it’s true love then, huh?’ Evgenia laughed, and Shoma looked down at his hands, playing with the ends of Yuzuru’s sleeves.

‘I mean…I can’t think of any other reason I would put up with being used as an armrest so…’ He gestured vaguely with one hand, sleeve flopping as he did so, and he offered a flicker of a smile, shy and twitching. Evgenia smiled back at him warmly, scrunching up her face.

‘I am trying really hard to resist the urge to pinch your cheeks,’ she teased. Shoma narrowed his eyes at her.

‘If you don’t want your fingers broken? Then please keep resisting that urge,’ he deadpanned, dark eyes dancing with a cheeky glint that made the others laugh. Jason sighed, shaking his head fondly and wrapping an arm around Shoma’s shoulders, briefly resting his head against him as he gave him a squeeze.

‘Shoma: promise me you’ll never change, ok?’ he said, light but somehow profoundly sincere in a way that made Shoma smile, shy yet oddly proud.

 

As Jason released him, Shoma rolled his shoulders back just a little, blowing out a breath and glancing around at the assortment of boxes Misha, Evgenia and Jason were surrounded by, some open and others stacked up and still taped shut.

‘What are you doing?’ he frowned, tipping his head and letting his body loll slightly with the motion as he tried to read the scrawled marker-pen labels down the side of the boxes. ‘Aren’t most people at morning meeting by now?’ Jason made a pained, noncommittal sound from the back of his throat, sounding like a pixie someone had just stepped on, and Evgenia laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders and shaking him teasingly.

‘Yes, Jason – aren’t we supposed to be at morning meeting by now? With our teams? Catching up on all the latest news, no?’ Shoma glanced up curiously, straightening and tipping his head the other way in enquiry, and Evgenia shot him a bright-eyed smile, mischievous and oddly excitable. ‘We’re ditching morning meeting so Jason can avoid Team USA for a while,’ she shrugged. ‘Except for the Shibs – we’re helping them out with something. You’re welcome to join if you want – Wakaba said most of Team Japan are in on it already.’ Shoma frowned slightly, glancing over at Jason.

‘Why are you hiding from Team USA?’ he asked, and Jason made a strange, strangled sound, his face crumpling in a mixture of mild amusement and genuine pain.

‘Oh, you know, the usual,’ he sighed. ‘Stuff I don’t want to get dragged into, basically.’ Evgenia rolled her eyes, bumping her shoulder into his.

‘What he is trying to say is that DRAMA is happening.’ She folded her arms and pulled a face at Jason when he made a vague sound of protest. ‘But it’s true, isn’t it? It’s always drama with you Americans.’

‘Zhenya,’ Jason whimpered, covering his face with his hands and barging her hip, and Evgenia simply laughed, throwing her arms up in a show of innocence which would have been more convincing if her eyes weren’t still lit with impish delight.

‘What: did I stutter?!’ she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes, and Jason shot her an attempt at a glare. Misha smothered a laugh.

‘This is a battle you are not going to win, my friend,’ he told Jason with a shrug. ‘She hasn’t been a fan of Team USA since that time Ashley got the last of the lemon-raspberry marble-iced cupcakes by distracting her with cat pictures.’ Jason grimaced.

‘Don’t get between Ashley and sugar.’

‘Don’t get between Zhenya and the cupcake I had already called as mine,’ Evgenia said airily, folding her arms, and Shoma smothered a smirk.

‘So what happened this time?’ he asked, and Jason let out a heavy sigh, offering Shoma a wry, almost apologetic smile.

‘Oh, you know how it goes: someone says something to someone, someone else gets angry about it, Ash and Adam can’t resist getting involved and make everything worse, people get defensive and then it gets out of control when it actually could’ve all been sorted by just…talking and not spreading more misinformation.’ Shoma gave a vague bob of his head, his eyes briefly flicking to Evgenia as she sank back slightly and mimed the word “BOOM”, her eyes comically wide as she simulated an explosion with her hands for emphasis. Shoma tried not to laugh and Jason closed his eyes, tipping his head back for a moment before pointedly looking back at Evgenia, one eyebrow quirked. ‘Are you quite finished?’ he asked, a smile tugging at his lips, and Evgenia grinned brightly back at him, giving him a quick, unashamed nod.

‘I think maybe yes, for now.’

 

‘Have you ever seen any of those American high school drama shows, Shoma?’ Misha asked, then, and Shoma frowned, shrugging slightly.

‘I guess. Why?’

‘Think of the plot from any one of those. Then make it a little more bitchy around the edges, add some even more terrible scripting, factor in an intense emotional environment and people with impressive power-wielding abilities…and stir,’ Misha shrugged, his smile amused but faintly tired at the edges.

‘Stir being the operative word,’ Evgenia muttered slyly, and Jason spluttered out a laugh, throwing his hands up in despair.

‘Guys, come on,’ he pleaded. ‘I’ve been going to summer power camps with some of these people since I was twelve years old! Can they be difficult sometimes? Sure. Do they try and put me in the middle if I get involved? All the time. Do I agree with everything they do? Not at all. But…am I willing to turn my back on them? It’s…not that simple.’

‘This is why I don’t like people: they’re crazy,’ Shoma offered archly, and Evgenia narrowed her eyes at him.

‘Your boyfriend is the craziest person here, Genius,’ she teased, and Shoma pulled a face. She shrugged blithely before turning her gaze back up to Jason, nudging impishly as his side. ‘Anyway, I still think you should ditch the Americans for someone else. Any team would probably adopt you, you know. I mean…you’ve known them since you were twelve, right? But the difference is? Some of them still are twelve. You’re better off not babysitting.’ Jason pursed his lips and Evgenia shrugged, unbothered.

‘Tracy would probably weep openly with relief if you joined Team Canada you know,’ Misha smirked. ‘She is really tired of dealing with the US ministry’s paperwork and politics for you.’

‘Guys, I’m not ditching my country over something that’s going to blow over in a couple days; everyone will bitch, moan, treat each other horribly and then get bored and move on.’

‘And no one will apologize and it all blows up ten times worse the next time: perfect!’ Evgenia said with false sweetness. ‘In Team Russia we get a bad rep for being moody, but you know? We vent. And if we don’t? Then we know we get stabbed in the back by our own ministry leaking all the gossip to the press anyway, so…we have good incentive I guess.’

‘We can’t all be Team Japan, clearly,’ Jason said, offering Shoma a small smile, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Like Team Japan is so great; we’re an actual headache.’ Jason laughed.

‘A really well-meaning headache who would do anything for each other,’ he said. ‘Plus you guys have Yuzu.’

‘So? What’s so special about Yuzu?’ Shoma asked bluntly, eyes glinting, and Misha snorted.

‘Spoken like someone who truly knows Yuzuru Hanyu,’ he grinned, flashing Shoma a quick wink.

 

Shoma was about to argue the point for sport – conscious of the fact at least one person present knew for sure he was wearing Yuzuru’s sweater – when the sound of someone jogging in from outside made everyone turn.

‘Hey, guys, have you got any more boxes for me?’ Jun was a little breathless, his cheeks pink from the cold and his hair windswept, and he gave Shoma a polite little bow of greeting that Shoma returned. ‘Hi, Shoma; Team Japan are already upstairs if you want to go join them.’

‘Huh?’ Shoma frowned, and Jun shrugged.

‘In the function room? Getting it ready?’ When Shoma’s frown only deepened Jun blinked at him, perplexed. ‘You guys haven’t told him yet?’ he queried of the guilty-looking trio behind Shoma, and Shoma looked from them to Jun and back again with narrowed eyes.

‘You people know I actively hate and distrust surprises, right?’ he said slowly, and Jason rolled his eyes.

‘We know, Shoma. And don’t worry – this isn’t supposed to be a surprise, we just…hadn’t found a moment to tell you yet.’ Shoma raised an eyebrow and Jason shrugged. ‘Maia and Alex and a whole bunch of Team Japan were talking last night and they thought it might be nice if we did some kind of welcome thing for your friend Sota.’

‘So they had me beg Brian for the function room keys,’ Jun said, his smile suddenly impish as he put his hands under his chin and widened his eyes a little, doing his best to look innocent. ‘I gave a whole speech about us needing a fun group project and told him this was the perfect thing for us to focus on…and then I made a bunch of promises about us setting everything up ourselves and not breaking anything and somewhere in the middle of that he handed over the keys whilst begging me to stop talking and telling me to get Javi to make sure no one got killed or anything.’

‘Also? Whilst he was distracting Brian, I swiped Tracy’s keys as a backup plan,’ Evgenia offered with a twinkling smile. Shoma laughed softly, and she gentled a little, stepping around Jason to put a kind arm around his shoulders. ‘Don’t worry; we’ll be good to him, ok? And we won’t tell him about you and Yuzu if people back home don’t know yet.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s mostly just an excuse for us all to blow off some steam after Yuzu scared us all to death.’

‘Yeah, and we want to meet your friend properly; most times when people arrive there’s a group with them, and they don’t get whisked off to research…it makes it easier for them to settle in. Your friend’s coming on his own and he’s got all these tests ahead of him – we don’t want him to feel awkward. So we thought the best way for him to meet us all without it feeling like we’re a pack of crazies is to have a party. Casual, fun. No pressure.’

‘Nine times out of ten, when people say something is going to be fun? I hate it,’ Shoma said with a wry smirk, twisting his lips to one side and tipping his body slightly as he groaned. ‘But…I guess I can make an exception.’

‘That’s the party spirit we’re looking for!’ Jason grinned, punching the air with exaggerated enthusiasm, and Shoma laughed despite himself, letting Jason and Evgenia prod at him teasingly until he squirmed out of their reach. He glanced over at Jun, raising his eyebrows at him curiously.

‘And how exactly did they rope you into this – the last time I saw you, you were telling Yuzu that if you got given any more projects you were going to lock yourself in your room and sleep for a month.’

‘Yeah, but that was kind of a reaction against the Korean ministry asking me to submit three more papers to them before the end of the month,’ Jun shrugged. ‘Mostly I’m just a golden-hearted boy, happy to help anyone and everyone.’ He nodded slowly, eyes glittering roguishly as he tipped his head back and forth. ‘That…and…Jason promised me cake. And that he’d write my Power Basics thing for me.’

‘Like Tracy’s not going to see right through that,’ Evgenia said, and Jun stuck his tongue out at her.

‘You mock now, but you know she’s coming after you next,’ he pointed out, and he and Evgenia both pulled childish faces at each other.

‘Er, also? I said I’d help, not that I’d write it for you,’ Jason offered, before glancing at Shoma and clasping his hands under his chin pleadingly. ‘So…you want to help us carry the last of the boxes over?’ He widened his eyes, giving his best puppy-dog face and coaxing a soft bubble of laughter out of Shoma. ‘You get to cut out on morning meeting…?’ Shoma pursed his lips.

‘But do I get cake too?’ he clarified, keeping his expression as neutral as he could in the face of Jason’s sunny smile.

‘Of course! Everybody gets cake – or how else do we call it a party?!’ Shoma nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes.

‘But…I get _more_ cake….right?’

 

The Foundation had at least ten different function rooms scattered around the complex, each one fancier than the last and most of them closed off for events that didn’t include at least one foreign diplomat, but Brian did allow certain special occasions to be hosted in the large, spring-pink-tinged top floor of the Foundation’s second central skyscraper. Shoma had never attended any of the events which had been hosted there since he had arrived at the Foundation, but he had once met Yuzuru in the building’s entryway after a mid-level ministry function had been hosted there; his tie had been half-undone and his skin flushed and hot, and Shoma remembered noticing a sheen of glitter across his cheeks as he had dragged him out into the courtyard. As he stepped into the function room’s private lift, he was hit by a sense-memory of Yuzuru’s too-hot skin and the starbursts of light glinting off his edges as he twirled out into the night, and it occurred to him that Yuzuru had been the brightest star in his universe for a long time before he’d bothered to acknowledge it. He wondered, idly, if Yuzuru’s lips would’ve tasted of marshmallow if he’d kissed him that night or if he’d have tasted of sticky cocktails and stuffy air instead – he was fairly certain he wouldn’t mind if he did, oddly drawn in by the idea of tasting something ragged and free and getting dusted in glitter second hand.

 

He was shaken out of his stupor by the feeling of Jason knocking subtly against his side, and when he blinked and looked up into his face Jason flashed him a knowing, faintly mischievous smile.

‘You’re going to need to shake off the lovestruck look pretty fast, Shoma,’ he whispered, nodding his head towards the floor indicator with a lightly amused grin. ‘Merciless Team Japan incoming in five…four…three…two…’ The lift chimed its arrival and the doors opened, and Jason gave him a casual shrug. ‘I’m not even going to ask what memory you made in this lift.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Shut up. Maybe the memory isn’t even made yet.’ Jason widened his eyes and let out a low whistle.

‘Shoma!’ Shoma groaned.

‘Please don’t,’ he whispered. ‘If Kana hears you my life is over.’ Jason laughed, giving him a quick wink.

‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,’ he whispered, patting Shoma’s shoulder before spinning on his heel and calling out to Maia and Alex, who were standing in the middle of the room, Maia consulting a clipboard whilst Alex bugged her with his camera.

 

The function room was a vast, open space, a bank of large windows on one side set to a midnight shade of dim, and a sparkling of fairy lights and blush-pink canopies giving the room a feeling of something smaller and more closed-in. There were painted fronds of cherry blossom turning into a night’s sky stretching out across the ceiling, and everything in the space seemed to glimmer and wink like the night’s sky, all the surfaces marbled like moonlit ponds of swirling glitter, pastel colours bleeding into darkness. It reminded Shoma of the garden, though the absence of butterflies and lightning left it feeling just a little hollow, and he wondered if he could talk Yuzuru into setting off one of his waterfalls of firework petals into the air later to fill the gap – because he didn’t want to ever have people besides himself and Yuzuru traipsing through the garden, changing its atmosphere and taking away the sacred thing it was between them, but he longed for Sota to know at least a little piece of his world here, to understand exactly what it was and to share in the wonder of it the way he deserved.

 

Shoma had barely managed to make it three paces before someone knocked into him forcefully from behind, folding their arms around him in a crushing hug even as they kicked his calf enough to make his leg buckle beneath him; he didn’t need to turn around to know who it was – Kanako smelt of peaches and summer and her energy had a low crackle to it that always relaxed him slightly.

‘Here’s my favourite little pest, at last!’ she declared, squeezing his shoulders tightly and only gripping tighter when he squirmed and made mild, laughing protests. ‘I’m so glad you’re finally awake.’ She released him and spun elegantly around to stand in front of him, her eyes all sparkle as she placed her hands on his shoulders and leant in a little. ‘I saw Yuzu in the courtyard earlier; I got him to do that sensing thing you two are so good at and he told me you were sleeping.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed, shrugging with a gleeful abandon. ‘Total honesty? I didn’t even think your powers could really do that – but Yuzu didn’t even blink. Or at least…he didn’t blink until I asked him what it felt like to kiss someone who you could also sense experiencing the kiss and he turned the colour of blossom petals and tried to kill me until the ministry officials showed up to spoil it.’

‘Kana!’ Shoma yelped, smacking at her lightly, but Kanako simply kept giggling, her smile wild and stupidly infections. Shoma felt a blush creeping up his neck.

‘You know what’s really funny? He said my name the exact same way you just did.’ She bounced on her heels, her smile silly and bright and her eyes still glittering. ‘Now I know for sure it must be super-wow to have superpower kisses, right?’ Shoma scowled as best he could managed when she was poking at him teasingly, squirming away from her and widening his eyes pointedly.

‘Kana can you keep it down; only you, Satton and Keiji know about my powers besides Yuzu, ok? And I kind of want it to stay that way as long as possible.’ Kanako sobered a little at that, a pink flinch of a smile still on her lips but something softer about her gaze as she pulled back with a prim nod, tucking her hair behind her ear and meeting his eyes.

‘Sorry – I keep forgetting it’s a secret, honestly. Or at least…I keep forgetting what is secret from who.’ She glanced around them, making sure they were mostly alone, before looking back at him with another gentle smile. ‘But please tell me I’m still allowed to revel in the fact we no longer have to pretend not to know you two are head over heels for each other, right?’ Shoma groaned again, rolling his eye.

‘Kana,’ he whined, and Kanako clasped her hands together pleadingly, bouncing a little.

‘Sho, come on – who here is going to run to the press, huh?’

‘Just…can you confine the torture to Team Japan for now? Please? It’s not like it’s a secret exactly but it’s just…Yuzu is still Yuzu, you know? And…some things shouldn’t belong to everyone anyway.’ Kanako softened in an instant, a gentleness coming over her as she stepped a little closer and wrapped her arm around Shoma’s shoulders, squeezing him with protective fierceness.

‘No one is ever going to hurt you on my watch, Shoma – me and Team Japan? We’ve got this,’ she said, quiet but firm. ‘And I know you have a whole heap of secrets on your shoulders that could land you in the middle of something crazy if the wrong people found out; trust me, I’ve seen the cost Yuzu pays every day, and I know the value he places on the few secrets he still has…no way am I ever letting you go through it if you’re not ready, and I won’t sell out Yuzu for anything.’ Shoma smiled slightly, fond and full as he leant back against her side gratefully.

‘Thanks, Kana,’ he mumbled. ‘I know I’m mostly a brat to you but…I’m really glad you’re here.’ Kanako beamed at him, squeezing him again and resting her head to his.

‘Shoma, honestly? You terrified me that night Yuzu was missing – you almost terrified me more than he did, and that’s saying something. Anyone makes you cry ever again? I will personally destroy them. Unless Yuzu gets to them first.’

‘Yuzu terrified me first,’ Shoma pointed out petulantly, and Kanako laughed, rolling her eyes and flicking his ear before sighing and folding her arms.

‘And this is who  you pick for a boyfriend, huh?’ she teased, and Shoma twisted his lips into a slight smirk, eyes glinting wickedly.

‘He has his perks,’ he admitted quietly. Kanako laughed.

‘Oh I bet he does – and if you think I’m not getting you alone one of these days to quiz you all about it? You clearly don’t know me very well.’ Shoma pulled a face and she stuck her tongue out at him before roughly hooking her arm through his and dragging him off across the room. ‘Now as punishment for waking up so late? I’m going to make you face all of Team Japan whilst you are blatantly wearing your boyfriend’s sweatshirt, and there is nothing you can do about it.’ Shoma crumpled slightly, letting his head drop back as he scrunched his face up into a wince, and Kanako elbowed him lightly. ‘Stop complaining: you love us.’

‘No, I really don’t,’ he protested, but Kanako simply flicked his ear again and kept steering him determinedly across the room.

 

Team Japan were gathered in a messy circle, Kaori, Mai, Marin and Kazuki kneeling beside open boxes of tableware, fishing out serving spoons and punch bowls and tablecloths and passing them up to the rest of the group for further sorting, everyone chattering away over the top of each other, their energies loud and excitable in Shoma’s ears; he reached out for Yuzuru’s lightning and let it subdue the rest of the noise, letting out a breath, and Kanako cast him a curious look, narrowing her eyes a little.

‘Did you just…?’ Shoma smirked slightly.

‘Maybe.’ Kanako stared at him for a beat before letting out a puff of a laugh, shaking her head slightly.

‘Wow. That is…really something.’ Shoma shrugged.

‘It comes in handy…when everyone else you can sense is just annoying and loud,’ he shot back. Kanako wrinkled her nose.

‘Sure, because when I think of Yuzu, “annoying and loud” never come into my mind at all.’ She arched an eyebrow at Shoma and he pursed his lips, eyes glinting with amusement as he shook his head.

‘Shut up.’ He glanced down and worried at his bottom lip, his smile turning shy. ‘He’s kind of…the calmest thing I know. When he knows I need him to be.’ Kanako let out a soft, damp little sigh, and when he looked up at her she was looking fond and sweet, her eyes dark and curiously wistful.

‘Oh, Shoma. That is…so sweet.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, running his fingers through his fringe and glancing away.

‘You tell anyone you die,’ he mumbled, and Kanako let out a laugh, rolling her eyes.

‘And that is…so you,’ she sighed, but there was something immensely affectionate in her voice and Shoma couldn’t help but smile.

 

Kanako cuffed him round the back of the head to make him look at her, giving him a quick, conspiratorial wink before grabbing his arm and tugging him forcefully behind her as she crossed the final distance towards Team Japan. ‘Hey, look who I found,’ she announced, finally letting him go in order to wave jazz hands at him and present him proudly to the group as he rolled his eyes.

‘Hi, Shoma,’ Kazuki grinned, looking up from what he was doing to give him a mock salute, and Shoma laughed, saluting back.

‘You still staying away from his boyfriend, huh?’ Kaori asked Kazuki mildly, looking up at Shoma with a delightedly mischievous expression and sticking her tongue out at him. Shoma launched a half-hearted kick her away and she ducked back giggling.

‘I was at the library with both of them two days ago,’ Kazuki said with a bright smile. He paused, tipping his head to one side. ‘There’s a pretty good chance neither one of them even noticed me, though…they either looked at each other or their textbooks and literally nothing else.’ Shoma frowned, tipping his head to one side in exaggerated confusion.

‘Wait…that was you who sat down in between us and stole all our sweets?’ Kazuki laughed.

‘Pretty sure the sweets mostly ended up eaten by Yuzu; you have scary-good aim throwing them in his mouth, you know…like, I thought you were going to take his eye out or something with how hard you threw them but…he got them every time…even when you weren’t looking.’ Shoma shrugged.

‘Yuzu does a lot of good run-throughs of his speeches, so I’ve had a lot of practice of pretending to pay attention and launching sweets at his face. It’s a talent, honestly.’

‘Isn’t his face insured for millions or something? I could’ve sworn I read that in a magazine,’ Kaori put in, frowning slightly, and Shoma spluttered out a laugh.

‘In that case Nobu and Kana probably owe someone a fortune for all the times they’ve pulled and prodded at him,’ he said dryly.

‘Oh, I want to argue but he’s right – I have abused that face many times,’ Nobu said, feigning a dramatic grimace. ‘It’s the hamster cheeks he never quite grew out of; he thinks he’s so powerful and majestic, but you pinch the right spot and he’s a baby again.’

‘Yuzu is loud and terrifying, we are within our rights to pinch his cheeks cost-free,’ Kanako declared, and Shoma arched an eyebrow.

‘You know that article is nonsense but…the minute he finds out you said that he is definitely finding a face insurance policy just to get at you, right?’ Nobu let out a wail, touching a hand to his forehead.

‘Have mercy, Shoma – don’t tell our terrifying, squawking overlord,’ he lamented, and Shoma smirked, rolling his eyes.

‘Because you guys show me so much mercy, huh?’

‘Shoma is a little demon, he’s not showing you any mercy,’ Satoko offered brightly. ‘But if you don’t poke the bear so much, you kind of get mauled a lot less.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s my personal experience at least.’

‘But what if Yuzu does insure his face; how are you going to get around that, huh?’ Keiji enquired, coming up to Shoma and resting an elbow on his shoulder. Shoma shot him a curious sidelong glance, and he shrugged, his smile wicked and his eyes glinting. ‘Shoma, I’m pretty sure  you’ve kissed every inch of that face; you could end up with a big bill to pay if legal documents got involved.’ Shoma pursed his lips, trying not to laugh as he smacked at Keiji’s side and elbowed him away sharply.

‘Pretty sure he won’t report me for that, thanks,’ he muttered as Keiji snickered. He flicked his hair out of his eyes, sighing and taking a moment to consider it, eyes shining with faint amusement as he tipped his head to one side. ‘Whatever: I have a trust fund from my family – I’ll just pay if I have to.’

‘Good to know your priorities are sorted,’ Keiji laughed, and Shoma shrugged casually.

‘I mean…it’s worth it. I’d recommend kissing Yuzu’s face to you too, but…I definitely don’t want to share so…’

‘This is something I can confirm: Shoma doesn’t share,’ a voice came from behind them, lilting and low, and Shoma caught the scent of rough, warm sandalwood and a hint of spice as Javier appeared at his other side, knocking his shoulder against him gently. He looked up at him from the corner of his eye, pursing his lips and attempting a glare. ‘And I promise: I keep my hands by my sides at all times when we’re in a room together.’ Shoma’s glare turned into a full-on scowl and Javier waggled his eyebrows. ‘But…I also have it on good authority that Yuzu would happily turn to dust anyone who tried kissing your face too, so…even if my hands weren’t by my sides? I’m pretty sure you have nothing to worry about,’ Javier added then, flashing Shoma a charming wink.

‘I’m guessing that authority is Yuzu himself, right?’ Satoko asked, quirking an eyebrow, and Javier laughed, straightening up and opening his arms in an expansive shrugging gesture.

‘I mean, I was sworn to secrecy…’ he said, tipping his head back and forth and biting back an amused smile, his brown eyes sparkling, deep and vaguely enchanting. ‘But…there is a chance I was sworn to that secrecy on pain of being turned to dust myself so…fill in the gaps yourselves.’ Mai finally looked up at that, glancing from Shoma’s still-stormy expression to Javier’s shameless smile and then around at the assembled group before giving a small shake of her head.

‘I think I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of this conversation,’ she said with a sweet, vaguely mischievous smile. ‘After all, there needs to be at least one member of Team Japan left alive besides Yuzu and Shoma when this is over, otherwise Shoma’s friend is going to have a really awkward welcome party.’ Shoma smiled at her and Mai smiled back, offering him a bright shrug. ‘You and Yuzu are always nice to me. Unlike _some people_ who try to set me up with their friends all the time,’ she added, throwing a napkin at a giggling Marin and shaking her head with a soft smile.

‘Hey, don’t be nice to Shoma, Shoma is a terror and you know it,’ Kaori put in mischievously, smacking at Mai’s arm, and Mai stuck her tongue out at her.

‘I’m standing right here you know,’ Shoma huffed, and Kaori smiled a smile that someone who didn’t know better would have called angelic.

‘I know, that’s why I didn’t say it even louder: I knew you’d hear me just fine.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at her, trying not to smile.

‘I don’t like you.’

‘I’m crushed,’ Kaori sighed, and Mai rolled her eyes.

‘Please play nice you two, I’m too tired to referee today,’ she said, her smile earnest, and Shoma huffed.

‘Stop playing the Actually Good Human card, it spoils our fun,’ he shot back with a sly smile, and Nobu snorted ungraciously loud.

‘Yeah, if you want kind and gentle, you need to find a new team,’ he nodded. ‘Here we do loud and ridiculous, and we like to pinch.’ He punctuated the point by pinching Mao’s arm, and she yelped, shoving him back and laughing when he almost overbalanced.

‘You’re terrible,’ she sighed, shaking her head at him despairingly.

‘We’re all terrible – it’s our way of showing moral support for each other by keeping the bar really low,’ Shoma remarked, and Keiji flicked his temple.

‘Is this what you’re going to tell your friend when he gets here, huh? After we were so good to you on your first day here?’ he demanded, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Good to me? You made me sit on your lap and let Kana and Mao pinch my cheeks whilst I was trying to eat,’ he shot back archly. ‘I would’ve killed you on the spot, but I was tired and hungry and you people knew where the good food was.’ Keiji laughed, nodding slowly.

‘Yeah, you really started as you meant to go on; half asleep, out of it, scrounging food and making sly remarks under your breath. I think I even caught you making eyes at Yuzu across the courtyard that day, huh?.’

‘Aw!’ Mai, Kaori and Marin squeaked, and Shoma shot Keiji a glare.

‘Thanks, Keiji. Remind me to smother you with a pillow while you sleep.’

‘So are you saying you _weren’t_ making eyes at Yuzu on your first day?’ Marin asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him innocently, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘I don’t even know what that means – how can I defend myself if I don’t understand the accusation?’ he complained. ‘I have eyes and Yuzu was there; that’s, like, an impossible situation to avoid looking at him. He basically demands it with how loud he laughs.’ Marin quirked an eyebrow.

‘That wasn’t a denial, you know,’ she wheedled, and Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘You want to know why I spend all my time with Yuzu? It’s because he is actually the only member of Team Japan who isn’t awful.’

‘That and the kissing,’ Kanako stage-whispered to Mao, and Shoma tipped his head back with another groan.

‘I am _this_ close to giving up.’

‘Finally – finally! – we have nearly broken his stubborn spirit,’ Daisuke said with a cool grin that Shoma couldn’t quite bring himself to deny, even as he brought his hands up to his face, shaking his head and letting out another low sound of complaint from the back of his throat.

 

‘So,’ Javier said suddenly into the pause, rubbing his hands together and casting his eyes around the group. ‘Not to spoil the fun for everyone, but I actually got sent here on an errand from Brian…’ He winced as he was met with the expected series of complaints, nodding amicably and giving a lazily apologetic shrug, dark eyes shining. ‘I know, I know – I guess I am terrible too, huh? I’m working as a double agent and telling on you all to the headmaster when this is over; I’m the worst of the worst.’ Shoma cast him a sidelong glance, his smirk sly and wicked as he arched an eyebrow.

‘Well, since you mention it…’ Javier looked back at him with a fond, dry smile, and Shoma shrugged, unbothered and wicked. ‘You started it,’ he mumbled, and Javier laughed, rolling his eyes.

‘Of course, it’s my fault you and Yuzu are crazy in love,’ he replied. ‘Anyway,’ he said pointedly, knocking Shoma’s shoulder with his own. ‘Brian wanted me to come up here to make sure everyone knew what was happening from morning meeting today. He wants at least one person from every team to show up, if possible – mostly so he’s not just standing there talking to himself like a loony-person, but also so everyone knows someone they can go to for filling in some details that maybe got lost along the way. Most of the teams have already nominated, but…with Yuzu off with Ghislain and the rest of you up here, we’re running short on anyone from Team Japan.’ Javier glanced hopefully around the group, eyebrows raised and smile charming. ‘So…do you guys need me to beg or…?’

‘I’ll go,’ Kazuki offered brightly, and Kaori gawped at him, reaching across and smacking his shoulder.

‘Why would you?! Who is going to help us sort through all these boxes, huh?’ Kazuki shrugged.

‘I’d say ask Shoma, but you already made him mad,’ he smiled, reaching up to bump Shoma’s fist with his own, the two of them sharing a grin as Kaori pouted at them. ‘I need to stretch my legs soon anyway; I’m starting to not be able to feel my feet,’ Kazuki added, wrinkling his nose as he pushed himself up, picking up his jacket from the floor.

‘I’ll go too, so you don’t have to sit alone,’ Mai said, scrambling to her feet and dusting herself down slightly, and Kazuki offered her a grateful smile.

‘Thanks…although I know there’s a pretty good chance you’re only volunteering because you know I always stop to get ice cream after morning meeting, right?’ Mai’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands.

‘Bonus ice cream! I’m getting chocolate chip,’ she declared enthusiastically.

‘You and Mai are too sweet, we can’t even be mad at you,’ Wakaba sighed, rolling her eyes fondly and moving to take up the now-available space on the floor beside Kaori. ‘Go, and we will do all your work for you whilst you both feast on ice cream.’ Kazuki beamed.

‘Perfect,’ he nodded, before glancing back at Shoma and offering him a grin. ‘If I see Yuzu I can tell him where to find you, if you like.’ The offer was made out of kindness, Shoma knew, but he still squirmed slightly, shaking his head that little bit too quickly and pinching Keiji’s arm when he chuckled.

‘It’s fine – he’ll probably figure it out anyway,’ Shoma told Kazuki with a tired smile, and Wakaba arched an eyebrow, her smile dangerous.

‘Is that code for “please don’t flirt with my boyfriend”, Shoma?’ she asked, her voice petulant and needling, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at her.

‘No, it’s code for “Wakaba, get your own life”,’ he shot back.

‘Ok, time out, Children,’ Daisuke laughed. ‘Let’s focus on the common enemy of mislabelled party supplies and channel our energy appropriately, huh?’

‘Oh, I am willing to channel my energy very appropriately, thanks,’ Shoma huffed, fighting a smirk as he folded his arms and pulled a face at Wakaba, and Wakaba grinned up at him shamelessly, sticking out her tongue.

‘Your life would be dull without us, Shoma,’ she said airily.

‘You know who his boyfriend is, right?’ Mao pointed out.

‘Yeah, without us his life would actually become a series of increasingly dramatic political situations and potentially life-endangering chaos,’ Keiji nodded, knocking his shoulder into Shoma’s. ‘The point still stands, though: you’re better off keeping us around.’

 

Shoma pursed his lips and shot Keiji a half-hearted glare, his expression unimpressed but a gentleness in his eyes that he knew Keiji caught; it was next to impossible for him now to imagine a situation where he could bring himself to be genuinely mad at any of them, and it felt more impossible still, now, to think he could ever go back to imagining Yuzuru wasn’t worth every moment of hassle that came along with him. The Shoma who had gone home instead of standing his ground wasn’t wrong, exactly, but he wasn’t the best version of him either – he was a version ruled by the noise and fury of protestors’ energies ringing in his ears and the spots from camera flashes still clouding his vision. Now Shoma was done letting the chaos be something he feared; he wanted to revel in it. The universe was chaos, and somehow he had still managed to slot into place perfectly in the Foundation’s world, had somehow managed to find the storm he had been unknowingly chasing his whole life and fit his fingers seamlessly into the spaces between Yuzuru’s. He shivered slightly and Keiji offered him a knowing smile, bumping their shoulders together softly. Shoma smiled back, shy and a little tired at the edges, and Keiji winked. ‘Underneath that cold, hard exterior? Is a slightly less terrible human being. And if you dig under that for a bit? There is a ridiculously warm heart. You don’t fool us,  you know.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, but his eyes shone brightly, and he looked down quickly in an effort to hide his smile. ‘Yeah, and we love you too, Shoma,’ Keiji laughed, shaking his head.

 

‘So, Javi…now you’ve sent off your Team Japan volunteers to morning meeting, does that mean you’re done working for the enemy?’ Wakaba enquired casually, not looking up from the box she was sorting through. Javier blinked, turning from his conversation with Kanako and shrugging slowly, tipping his head to one side in a vague gesture of agreement.

‘I mean…I guess. Unless you’re about to tell me about some plan to set something on fire or kidnap a mentor or…I don’t know…throw Shoma off the roof or whatever.’ His smile turned impish and he flicked Shoma a sidelong glance. ‘Well, ok, I might help with the last one, providing Yuzu never found out and Shoma was still in one piece at the end but…’

‘I hate you all,’ Shoma said calmly, and Javier smiled at him, ruffling his hair and laughing when Shoma squirmed away. Wakaba rolled her eyes.

‘It’s nothing bad, I swear – and I would never throw Shoma off the roof…pour of bucket of water over him or pinch his arm or point out that he is definitely wearing his boyfriend’s sweater this morning, sure…’. Shoma blinked slightly at that, and Wakaba flashed him a smile full of delight and faux-innocence as she caught the guilty look on his face before shrugging unapologetically and glancing back to Javier. ‘But roof-throwing is getting into the kind of wild best left to you Europeans when you all get drunk and end-of-term giddy after a summit and you stay out way too late.’ Javier hummed, tapping a finger to his lips.

‘Really? Because to me it sounds like the kind of crazy thing that might happen at the end of a Team Japan sleepover, but what do I know, hm? I have only been dealing with Team Japan since my first day here, right?’ Wakaba pulled a face at him and Javier chuckled and rolled his eyes, his expression gentling. ‘So come on: what are you asking me that Brian shouldn’t know, huh?’

‘Nothing big, just…I’m skipping morning meeting but…I don’t actually know the whole story.’ Wakaba shrugged. ‘I mean, I know the part about Shoma’s friend coming here and us welcoming him the way we welcome all new arrivals, because…well: duh.’ She gestured around the group and scrunched her face up slightly before sighing and looking up at Javier with a slight frown. ‘But it’s this stuff about the Japan ministry I don’t get – why is it coming up now? Is it still because of what happened with Yuzu or is this something new?’ Shoma’s brow furrowed, and when he caught the slight grimace on Javier’s face he felt a curl of worry unfolding inside him, the sound of crumpling paper and a memory of ice pressing at his back.

‘What’s going on with the ministry?’ he asked, voice traitorously small and his eyes stormy. Javier sighed, pulling a face and shrugging in an attempt at seeming dismissive that didn’t convince.

‘It’s nothing, really,’ he said, slow and vaguely pained, and Shoma’s frown deepened.

‘It doesn’t sound like nothing,’ he muttered. Javier pursed his lips.

‘That’s what Yuzu said when Brian and Tracy tried to make his tests at the hospital being in front of ministry officials into nothing too,’ he replied with a wry smile. ‘Do you know about the drama in Team USA?’ Shoma gave a slight nod and Javier nodded back, looking down and licking his lips thoughtfully. ‘Ok. Well…that all started because Raf got accused of talking to certain officials and stirring the pot with the Japan ministry about Yuzu – Adam and Ashley found out what people were saying they’d seen, got defensive, everything got out of hand and…Team USA took it off in another direction. But with the original issue with Raf? It actually seems like there was some truth to it.’ Wakaba gasped, looking up at Marin with wide eyes.

‘Seriously?!’ Marin pulled a face, nodding slightly and looking down.

‘I overheard some stuff after one of my meetings with him,’ she said sadly, lifting one shoulder in an awkward shrug. ‘I told Tracy and Brian right away and didn’t say anything to Adam and Ashley, that whole blow-up in their team isn’t any of my business, I swear.’ Satoko offered her a kind smile, reaching across to wrap an arm around her.

‘We know, don’t worry.’

‘Well, whoever said whatever and whenever they said it? Something got back to the Japan ministry somewhere along the line, because officials were in Brian’s office first thing this morning demanding answers about Yuzu and you,’ Javier said, glancing at Shoma almost apologetically. Shoma blinked, flinching back slightly and widening his eyes in surprise.

‘Me?’

‘Yeah, you,’ Javier shrugged. ‘About your powers mostly, but also about how close the two of you are; they’re not happy to have you be so warm and openly friendly, and they say Brian isn’t doing enough to foster more competition between you…or rather…outright rivalry, I suppose, you know? They want him to make you into Yuzu’s successor, not his ally…and they seem to believe you might have the power behind you to actually do it too. They were going off about Yuzu having too much influence over you, distracting you, holding your power back or making you weak somehow – they called him a distraction from your path and told Brian to teach Yuzu to be more respectful of up and coming talent.’ Javier rolled his eyes, an unusually bitter snarl curling his lips for a moment and a spark of something simmering through his energy, scalding and golden, like hot honey. ‘As always, Yuzuru is too much and not enough – their great asset and tool who they dearly wish to replace with a different model…unaware that all the things they hate so much about him are the things that make him who he is and have ensured so much progress for their international policies.’ Shoma’s lips twitched up at one corner in a strange, broken smile, and he bobbed his head slightly, letting out a sigh.

‘He’s bright and quick and speaks his mind. They preferred me slow and quiet and doing as I was told – but I showed my hand when Yuzu was missing, and now they want to blame him for it.’ Javier matched his smile sadly, shrugging.

‘We knew it would probably come, right?’ he sighed. ‘They were going to make these accusations no matter what Raf might have told them, but…the timing is curious. And their sudden interest in your power, when before they treated you as simply…one of many Japanese Healers here…it suggests they know something we don’t.’ Javier glanced away. ‘Tracy had to fight hard to make sure Yuzu was the only one doing power tests this morning – the Japanese ministry wanted them from you too.’ Shoma started slightly.

‘Does Yuzu know?’ he asked, and Javier shook his head.

‘Not yet. But Brian will tell him I’m sure…and when he does? He will go mad. He is already tired of Tracy’s questions about your powers, the ministry poking their noses in…’

‘They have no business questioning Shoma’s power,’ Satoko cut in firmly. ‘And you can tell Brian to tell the ministry I will go against them too if they start pushing him.’

‘Yeah. Shoma’s power is Shoma’s business. All of our powers are,’ Kanako nodded. ‘It’s bad enough what they put Yuzu through, but he sees it as his duty…the rest of us have had it made clear time and again by the ministry we have no such purpose, so…maybe we shall start to act like it. They can sanction one or two of us maybe, but not all of us.’ Javier smiled, nodding slowly.

‘I will pass the message along,’ he laughed. ‘Although, honestly? I think he’s well aware of the loyalty of Team Japan…and even if Brian hasn’t worked it out yet? Tracy 100% knows exactly what Yuzu and Shoma mean to each other.’ Shoma shrank back slightly from the curious gazes of all of Team Japan, and he pulled a face, leaning a little into Keiji’s side.

‘What are you looking at me like that for?!’

‘Yuzu told Tracy about you two?’ Mao asked, eyebrows raised. ‘Wow. He really is serious about you, huh.’

‘Like Tracy couldn’t figure it out for herself: Yuzu’s dumb, shiny lip balm is Shoma’s favourite accessory these days,’ Wakaba put in with a wrinkle of her nose. ‘Don’t think I don’t see, Sho: I see everything.’ Shoma scowled at her and her smile only brightened. ‘You two are getting sloppy now you’re in love – you can’t even be bothered hiding the messy hair and the constant blushing any more, huh?’

‘Why is this so entertaining to you?’ Shoma demanded, and Nobu laughed, shooting Shoma an annoyingly bright smile.

‘Shoma, don’t sell yourself short…or…shorter than you already are, anyway.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes at him and Nobu mimed blowing him a kiss. ‘Have a little faith in yourself: we find you infinitely entertaining…especially when you show up even later than usual wearing Yuzu’s clothes and a cute puppy-love face, huh?’ Shoma glowered with all he had, opening his mouth to reply and suddenly being cut off by Keiji throwing a forceful arm around his shoulders and pulling him backwards.

‘Ok! You know what? I think I heard Taka say he wanted help unpacking glasses, so…me and Shoma are going to get right on that – right, Sho?’ Shoma didn’t turn away, and Keiji sighed, yanking him by the jacket so he was forced to stumble backwards and fall into step with him.

 

Behind them Shoma heard Satoko also excusing herself, and a second later she ran up behind them, looping her arm through Shoma’s and knocking against him, gentle and kind.

‘They’re only playing, Shoma,’ she said softly, and Shoma made a vague hum of agreement that Satoko elbowed him for. ‘Seriously. They don’t mean to make it sound like they don’t get it, you know. They just don’t know how you are.’ Shoma glanced at her sceptically and she shrugged. ‘You’re sly and sarcastic and flippant and kind of a mess…and when something matters to you, you take it to heart and guard it fiercely. They’re not teasing to diminish what you and Yuzu have, Shoma. They know it’s special, they just…want to have fun with you about it and show they’ve noticed how happy you are – they don’t mean to make something deep seem like something fleeting or frivolous, they just don’t know that when you care you care so whole-heart it hurts you to think of it is as anything less.’ Shoma pursed his lips and Satoko jabbed at him, widening her eyes pointedly and trying to coax a smile from him. His lips twitched up at one corner and he shot her a half-hearted glare. ‘You know I’m right, Shoma.’

‘She really is,’ Keiji offered, knocking his elbow against Shoma’s arm. ‘No one thinks you and Yuzu are some casual, throwaway thing, because it’s obvious you’re not. I think half of us had that figured out before you and him even figured that out.’ Keiji rolled his eyes slightly, offering Shoma a lopsided smile. ‘But acting like it’s not a big deal isn’t our way of saying it’s not a big deal – it’s our way of saying it is actually a really big deal, because…it makes perfect sense, it’s just…right. You guys belong together. And you belong to each other. And we’re casual about it because…we don’t want to question it any more than we want to question whether gravity is going to still be there when we wake up in the morning.’ Keiji pulled a face then. ‘You know, you and Yuzu, you’re like…these weird equal-opposites, right?’ he said, quirking an eyebrow. ‘You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve a whole lot…until something matters to you, and then you wear it like a badge and to hell with the consequences.’ He tipped his head to one side. ‘Yuzu on the other hand-’

‘Wears his heart on his sleeve forever and always, no matter how many times it gets scuffed up and damaged. Until something really, truly precious comes along – and then he guards it like a secret and only shares it with people who he can trust to see it for the valuable thing it is to him,’ Takahito interrupted, looking up as they approached and flashing Shoma one of his quiet, intent smiles that made Shoma feel somewhat seen-through. ‘I’m guessing Team Japan are proving to be too loud this early in the morning?’ Shoma smiled slightly, giving a small bob of his head.

‘Something like that,’ he murmured, and Takahito nodded back, his always-kind eyes shining with something so comforting Shoma could feel his edginess fall away from him in an instant; Takahito, Satoko and Keiji all had such deep, rich energies, like cool, still waters on an autumn morning, leaves falling and air crisp – it was protective and soothing and Shoma let the feeling mingle with the background drumbeat of Yuzuru’s energy as it evened out to match Shoma’s heartbeat. Satoko laid a delicate hand on Shoma’s shoulder, leaning in to meet his gaze and offering him one of her beautiful, quiet smiles, the look in her eyes like moonlight over dark waters and everything in her expression inviting and kind.

‘There is nothing wrong with knowing, with immense conviction, that you have found something which will be everlasting to you in some way, regardless of whatever else may happen. But…there is also nothing wrong with accepting that the big finds its way into the small; it is the most precious thing, but also the most natural, so let it fall into place in your life and don’t worry so much when other people think of it as part of life that way too…that’s a good sign, Shoma. It means you have found something that makes so much sense that no one can bring themselves to believe some teasing could shake it. Like it has always been there and always will be.’

 

As Satoko and Keiji immediately set about helping Takahito sort and stack the glasses from the boxes scattered around him, Shoma begrudgingly agreed to join them, and at first he sat a little off to the side, emptying the glasses from the boxes and passing them to Satoko to sort as he half-listened to the conversation and half-drifted off inside his own head – but he felt restless and absent-minded, suddenly desperate to get back to Yuzuru and be in the company of someone who understood the rules he played by so completely he could break them and push at them for sport without it hurting Shoma’s feelings. After he almost dropped a third glass in a row Satoko simply rolled her eyes at him, dragging the full box away and foisting an empty one on him instead. ‘You can fold down the empty boxes and take them over to the pile for storage, huh? Maybe deconstructing stuff will take you mind off whatever has gotten into  you today,’ she sighed with mild, vaguely fond despair, and Shoma pulled a face at her, taking the box and rolling his eyes.

‘You know I never even volunteered to help, right?’ he pointed out petulantly, and Keiji looked up at him with a smirk.

‘We know. But your boyfriend is with Ghislain and we had to stop you from murdering half of Team Japan, so your options are kinda limited,’ he pointed out. Shoma pursed his lips, trying to hide his smile, and Keiji pulled a face at him.

‘Stop trying to think of a good come-back and just go, you little brat,’ Takahito laughed gently, swotting him away, and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him, grinning as he let himself loll backwards to spin off slowly and do as he was told.

 

He was on his third trip back from depositing flattened boxes in the corner of the room when he was hit on the back by something that felt suspiciously like a basketball, and he turned abruptly, frowning down at the offending ball and picking it up to turn over in his hand for a moment before looking around to try and judge where it came from.

‘Yo, Shoma; over here!’ Shoma twisted around, narrowing his eyes as he spotted Nathan and Boyang approaching.

‘What’s wrong with “Good morning”, huh?’  he said, his lips curling up at one corner as he bounced the ball a couple of times and gave them both a playfully challenging look before launching the ball back towards Nathan, but Boyang stretched up to snatch it before Nathan had the chance, beaming one of his snaggle-toothed grins and looking down at the ball with a genuine, childlike wonder that coaxed a soft laugh out of Shoma. ‘Good catch,’ he told Boyang with a nod, and Boyang bowed with a playful flourish.

‘Morning, Shoma,’ he smiled as he straightened, and Shoma smiled back, digging his hands in his pockets.

‘Hi,’ he replied with a small bob of his head. ‘Hey,’ he added to Nathan, who tilted his head slightly, putting a hand to his chest and pretending to look around to make sure it was him Shoma had addressed.

‘Wait, you’re speaking to me now?’ Nathan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he arched an eyebrow at Shoma, his lips curving up. ‘You’d have thought I would’ve felt different today if now I’m finally existing again, right?’ Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘Not you too,’ he groaned. ‘Why does everyone have to act like I disappeared on them or something?’ Nathan flashed him a grin.

‘What, you think you can get away with ditching us for spending every waking moment with _the_ Yuzuru Hanyu and we’re not gonna talk about it?’ Nathan folded his arms, shrugging casually. Nothing in his energy felt sharp or prickling enough for Shoma to be able to be mad at him; Nathan had a curiously mellow energy, raw power that was strangely subdued when it wasn’t being called upon, heavy and cool and quiet. ‘I just really hope you finally talking to me again doesn’t mean I’m about to end up getting all Freaky Friday with Yuzu coz…I’m pretty sure I could not handle that dude’s life at all.’ Shoma smirked, nodding slowly.

‘No one but Yuzu can, that’s what makes him Yuzu,’ he shrugged. ‘And anyway, you’d get sick of me and wish I’d ignore you pretty fast – Yuzu doesn’t really get time off from my disaster area.’ Nathan laughed.

‘Hey, it might make a change to actually talk to you though: I feel like we haven’t caught up in forever, man – what gives?!’

‘Yeah, Shoma – you hardly even show up for sessions anymore, huh? You’re always off having private study and meetings and press conferences and I don’t have anyone to share my secret waffles with,’ Boyang put in with an impish pout, and Shoma rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself.

‘I’m not even sure if you mean secret waffles like you snuck in food or if you mean secret rambling conversations,’ he complained mildly, and Boyang grinned.

‘Well I mean both – duh!’ He tossed the basketball back to Shoma and widened his eyes for emphasis. ‘I have found a place that does nothing but desert and I have a lot of updates that you really need to hear regarding the restaurant rankings around here.’ Nathan cuffed him lightly round the head before casting Shoma wry smile.

‘Yeah, I can’t think why you’d want to miss out on these kinds of gripping updates,’ he said ruefully, running his fingers through his curls with a sigh. ‘But hey, he’s not entirely wrong though; we have missed you.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean, for a start? We win way less at the arcade without your crush-the-competition, must-win mentality to help us out – and Boyang’s stuffed animal collection has really slowed down its growth rate as a result so…things are getting bleak around here.’ Shoma laughed somewhat guiltily, looking down and toeing the floor with his shoe.

‘I know I’m kind of a crappy friend to have, it’s fine – you can say it, I don’t mind,’ he sighed. ‘Since I came back from Japan I’ve…kind of been in the middle of a storm, honestly.’

‘Oh, you’ve been in the middle of something, alright,’ Nathan said slyly, waggling his eyebrows, and Shoma looked up in surprise, wincing slightly.

‘Wait…you know?’ Nathan quirked an eyebrow and Shoma grimaced. ‘I mean…you know about me and Yuzu?’

‘Er, are we not supposed to know?’ Nathan asked, and Shoma groaned.

‘No? Maybe? I don’t know.’ He rubbed a hand over his face.  ‘How do you know?’

‘Er, because our eyes are connected to our brains?’ Boyang laughed. Shoma pulled a face.

‘That…is not comforting.’ Nathan offered him a kind smile, giving him a bump on the shoulder and shrugging.

‘Hey, it’s cool – we’re not going to blab to anyone, we swear. I mean, I get it, man; no one wants their love life to be the subject of an hour-long news special on Japanese TV, right? So…our lips are sealed.’ Shoma offered him a grateful smile and Nathan shrugged. ‘But I mean…if you really want to make sure we don’t spill you could always just buy our silence by agreeing to come for breakfast with us…’ He raised his eyebrows, waggling his fingers in a dryly enticing gesture, and Shoma felt torn, opening his mouth to turn down the offer before closing it again with a slight wince. It was Boyang who put him out of his misery, letting out a sudden, enthusiastic gasp.

‘Pancakes!’ he exclaimed with enough force to make Nathan and Shoma jump and exchange dry, vaguely amused glances. ‘We can go for pancakes – no one can say no to pancakes,’ Boyang insisted, looking at Shoma with a wide, hopeful expression, his hand clasped under his chin.

‘Well…he’s got you there, man; pancakes are the internationally recognised food of peace and reconciliation with long-neglected friends,’ Nathan smirked, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, pursing his lips for a moment and fighting back a smile as he nodded slowly.

‘Sure…ok…I could probably do pancakes,’ he agreed.

 

Shoma was actually grateful for Nathan and Boyang’s invite; he was glad to be able to slip away without the fanfare of interrogations and wolf-whistles Team Japan would have subjected him to if he had been forced to explain to them that he was leaving to meet Yuzuru, and there was something gentle and easy-going about Nathan and Boyang’s company which he was in desperate need of, grateful of the break from having to really think about anything much at all. Boyang kept up a steady chatter as they made their way across the courtyard, and Shoma let it wash over him, slipping in the occasional dry remark and taking Boyang’s pouts and gentle shoves with laughter and easy smiles. Nathan bounced his basketball along as they went, occasionally trying and failing to catch Shoma out with the odd errant throw every time he noticed him slipping his phone from his pocket to check for a message from Yuzu.

 

‘Do you ever wear your own jacket anymore or do you just always steal Yuzu’s?’ Nathan asked as they slid into a booth in the corner of the restaurant, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Yuzu’s are nicer; they’re soft and he stretches the cuffs out,’ he shrugged, glancing up from his menu with a small smile. ‘I wear mine when we have to go talk to the ministry staff. And Mihoko keeps a spare in case I forget to bring it.’ Nathan laughed, nodding slowly.

‘You’re really a dude who inspires loyalty aren’t you,’ he remarked casually, and Shoma shrugged.

‘I’m mostly just a mess and people take pity on me,’ he replied, flicking a glance up at Nathan and offering him a rueful yet mischievous smile. ‘You go through life being a foot shorter than everyone else in the room and you…find other ways to get your own way, I guess.’ Nathan laughed slightly, shaking his head.

‘Should I be worried?’ he asked, and Shoma shrugged.

‘Don’t provoke me and we’ll be just fine.’ He pursed his lips, his lips quirking up at one corner in a soft, wonky smile. ‘Don’t provoke my boyfriend either, for the record. He’s the really scary one.’ Nathan laughed, but Boyang let out a small, outraged gasped, kicking Shoma’s shin lightly.

‘Yuzu isn’t scary, he’s friendly!’ he protested, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘Yuzu as in Yuzuru Hanyu, right?’ he said dryly, kicking Boyang back with a wicked smirk. ‘90% leg, really loud laugh, has “Save the world” in his day planner and once conjured enough fire in the palm of his hand that it blistered his own fingers….and he didn’t flinch? That Yuzu isn’t scary?’ Shoma raised an eyebrow. ‘Ok. Sure. That sounds…believable.’ Boyang pulled a face at him, his eyes shining as he let out a laugh.

‘Ok, fine, maybe he can be scary if you do bad stuff and make him mad, but most of that stuff is, like…awe-inspiring, not scary.’

‘I think Yuzu occupies this really unique space in most people’s minds where he can inspire total fear and total wonder at the same moment, you know?’ Nathan offered, sitting back and giving a slight shrug. ‘There’s no one else who uses power quite like him, I guess. Like…I have to work pretty hard to project mine out, to try and find some way to make people want to look. But Yuzu just…breathes and it commands attention. He won’t come to  you, he’ll make your eyes come to him. And I think the closest person to having that same ability that I’ve ever seen? Honestly? It’s you.’ He knocked his elbow against Shoma. ‘When you get mad you get pretty intense too, you know – I don’t think I’d want to piss you off in a straight up fight.’ Shoma pulled a face.

‘I’m a Healer. We don’t fight,’ he muttered. Nathan looked him up and down sceptically.

‘You sure about that?’ he asked with a lazy smile. ‘Coz I’m pretty sure you’re all fight, actually.’ Shoma played with the ends of his sleeves, biting down on his lip in an effort not to smile.

‘I’m stubborn and I know where I’m going,’ he said quietly. ‘I guess that’s a kind of fight.’

‘I think it’s a kind of courage, personally. But then…everyone’s fighting their own battles, I guess. I couldn’t handle yours or Yuzu’s paths, I don’t think. But I’m pretty proud of myself for driving ahead with my own, you know?’ Shoma smiled, nodding slowly.

‘Yeah. I think I do.’ Nathan smiled at him gratefully, nodding back and looking back down at his menu, and for a moment the three of them fell silent, listening to the chatter and hum as more people poured in for their morning sugar-fix full of laughter and stories and excitement in their energies that buzzed and wore at the edge of Shoma’s sensing ability and made him curl in just a little.

 

‘Wait!’ Boyang said suddenly into the pause, looking up with wide eyes and giving Shoma another kick. ‘Does Yuzu really have “Save the world” written in his day planner? Because if so then that’s seriously crazy-wild and awesome.’ Shoma spluttered out a laugh, rolling his eyes and offering Boyang a fondly exasperated smile.

‘Trust me, Yuzu is crazy-wild all on his own, he doesn’t need to save the world to prove that much,’ he said dryly, shaking his head. ‘So, I hate to ruin the illusion but…actually his planner mostly has stuff like “Call Mum” and “Paper due Friday” written in it…you know…like a normal person’s planner would?’ Boyang sagged a little, shrugging and sitting back.

‘That’s ok. It’s kinda cool that he’s human,’ he smiled and Shoma smiled too, nodding and looking down at the ends of his sleeves with a thoughtful sigh.

‘Yeah. It kinda is,’ he murmured before glancing back up with a wry grin. ‘And hey…he actually has a planner and knows where it is so…he’s already doing better than me…’ Nathan laughed.

‘You and me both, man,’ he agreed, bumping Shoma’s fist and sharing a smile with him.

 

As always, Shoma sensed Yuzuru before he saw him, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth as a shudder of lightning stretched its fingers out across his back in zigzag patterns that made his skin prickle and his breath catch; he closed his eyes against it and let a smile ghost across his features, pushing back with a deep breath and a breaking wave of sunlight. He blinked his eyes open once more and rolled his shoulders slightly, suddenly taking an intense interest in his breakfast when he noticed the curious look Nathan shot him. Moments later the feeling of lightning intensified just a little, and at the same moment Boyang let out a high, happy yelp, sitting up in his seat and waving his arms enthusiastically to someone in the doorway.

‘Yuzu!’ he hollered, arms still flailing and grin intensifying, and Shoma didn’t bother to turn around, shooting Nathan a knowing look and shrugging lightly with a roll of his eyes.

‘Does he have, like…a tracker on you or something?’ Nathan asked, glancing over his shoulder to bob his head in Yuzuru’s direction, and Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘No…that would be creepy.’ He paused, tipping his head slightly. ‘But…technically I guess he kinda does,’ he added under his breath.

‘Yuzu, come have pancakes with us!’ Boyang called out, beckoning Yuzuru over with a wild, unnecessary hand gesture, and Shoma finally turned, peering up over the booth and meeting Yuzuru’s eyes instantly. Yuzuru’s whole face filled with light in a heartbeat, his eyes glittering and his smile delicately pink and sweet as he mimed Shoma’s name happily in greeting, making Shoma smile back softly, giving a small, shy shake of his head. He wasn’t alone, Jason walking by his side with an amused, faintly despairing smile on his face as he bumped Yuzuru’s shoulder gently then pulled a face at Boyang.

‘Hey, what am I? Invisible?’ he demanded as he and Yuzuru approached, and Nathan shot him a dry smirk.

‘You’re standing next to Yuzuru Hanyu so…to two thirds of this table and a sizable chunk of the world population? Yeah, you’re basically just empty space right now,’ he shrugged, and Jason rolled his eyes.

‘Well when you put it like that,’ he sighed laughingly, sliding into the booth beside Boyang.

 

Yuzuru stuck his tongue out at Nathan, throwing himself down beside Shoma and leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips, Shoma’s eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he drew in the scent of bergamot and the sticky press of marshmallow against his skin.

‘Hi,’ Yuzuru whispered, pulling back, and Shoma’s eyes fluttered open, a shy smile touching his lips that he tried to stifle.

‘Hi,’ he breathed, and Yuzuru’s eyes twinkled as he scrunched his nose up at him with affectionate glee.

‘Miss me?’ he enquired lightly, reaching for a fork from the basket in the centre of the table and spearing one of the strawberries from Shoma’s plate with an elegant flourish, and Shoma laughed slightly, elbowing him and rolling his eyes.

‘Yeah, it’s been a real struggle to go ten whole minutes without you,’ he shot back, snatching the fork from Yuzuru’s hands to eat the strawberry himself and smirking when he let out a childish yelp. ‘Get your own breakfast, Hanyu.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at Shoma slightly before leaning in for another kiss, lingering just a little longer this time and drawing a soft sigh from Shoma’s lips. When he pulled back he hummed slightly, eyes sparkling as Shoma blinked bewilderedly back at him.

‘Mm, sea salt, war…and chocolate sauce,’ he said lightly, leaning in to kiss the tip of Shoma’s nose and quickly snatching another strawberry from his plate. ‘How very Shoma,’ he added, something darkening in his gaze slightly for just a moment before he popped the strawberry quickly into his mouth, casting Shoma a wicked, electric smile. Shoma smiled back, cheeks hot and eyes bright as he let out a huff of breath.

‘You’re such a gremlin,’ he said, twisting his lips to one side and giving Yuzuru a slight shove, and Yuzuru nodded as he licked his fingers.

‘I know. But so are you so I don’t feel so bad,’ he said, bumping his shoulder in return and sharing a soft, fond look with him as he found his hand, bringing the back of it up to his lips and pressing a small kiss there. ‘I heard Waka and Nobu almost died this morning.’ Shoma narrowed his eyes.

‘Keiji sold me out,’ he said darkly and Yuzuru laughed, shaking his head.

‘Satton,’ he corrected. ‘She said I should come collect you before someone lost an arm. I told her people should know better than to mess with you before breakfast.’ Beneath the table he gave Shoma’s hand a firm, earnest squeeze, conveying a silent, profound sort of understanding even as he turned his attention back to stealing Shoma’s breakfast with a playful smile. ‘I passed all my checks, by the way – just so you don’t keep having to try and hide your tender concern, huh?’ Shoma laughed, squeezing Yuzuru’s hand back with determined fierceness whilst simultaneously turning to take a sip of his drink.

‘Oh, didn’t you know? I don’t do tender and concerned. I do sarcastic and unbothered.’ Yuzuru laughed, taking back the spare fork and stealing a corner of pancake with a considering hum.

‘In that case I feel less bad about stealing your food.’ Shoma shot him a glare, and Yuzuru shrugged, quirking an eyebrow at him. ‘I mean…since we’re being honest here, right?’ He tipped his head and Shoma pursed his lips, his expression sly and enchanted at the same time as he felt Yuzuru’s eyes studying him, a blazing trail of lightning skimming the soft edges of his face and running along the slope of his jaw. He took in the pale contrast of his skin against the dark red of his blush, the rounded-out edges of his features and the broad, flat lines of his nose and brow – Shoma drew in a somewhat shaky breath as he felt Yuzuru’s gaze linger on the raw, bitten-pink and red of his lips then reached out to touch his fingers to the skin just above them, to the marks on his cheek and then the long, dark fan of his lashes as he closed his eyes. Delicately, reverently, Yuzuru brushed at Shoma’s fringe, meeting his eyes as they fluttered back open and offering him a curious, wonderous smile. Shoma licked his lips and gave the faintest shake of his head.

‘I’d believe you more if you could even begin to pretend to be that indifferent to me – you can’t even be indifferent to my face, Thunder Boy,’ he muttered slyly, and Yuzuru’s face crinkled up into a dizzying smile, butterflies tumbling off his edges every time Shoma blinked.

‘Who would look at the sun with indifference, Shoma?’ Yuzuru breathed, eyes shining. ‘Who would kiss the sun and feel indifference, huh?’ he added then, leaning in to steal another kiss from Shoma’s lips, tugging his hand onto his lap and squeezing it tight, everything in his body full of thundercloud and drums, filling Shoma up second hand and thrumming through his bones.

 

This kiss lingered just a little longer, Yuzuru’s lips a slightly more insistent pressure, enough for Shoma to forget, for a moment, that they had an audience and to allow himself to let his guard down just a little more, his usually solid, blockish body gentling and winding towards Yuzuru’s gravity instinctively. When Yuzuru drew away his body almost stuttered, his eyes blinking open and his skin buzzing with electricity as he fell back a little and stared up into Yuzuru’s face, and Yuzuru smiled at him knowingly, kissing the bridge of his nose once before carefully reaching across to pull Shoma’s plate towards him, casually stealing another forkful of pancake and offering Shoma a wicked smile.

‘What happened to knowing better than to mess with me before breakfast?’ Shoma managed weakly, swallowing in an effort to make his voice seem firmer and trying to shake off the lightning still clinging to his skin. Yuzuru shrugged, bumping their shoulders together and pressing another kiss to the back of his hand.

‘This is messing with you during breakfast, though,’ he said, lips twisting up in a gentle curve. He glanced down then, pushing at the edge of a pancake with his fork with a smile that was somewhere between shy and fond, and Shoma felt his stomach flip. ‘Sunburn and strawberries.’ Yuzuru looked back up and met Shoma’s eyes. ‘Worth whatever price I have to pay, every time.’ Shoma’s breath hitched slightly, and he swallowed hard, squeezing Yuzuru’s hand and looking up at him through his fringe with a tiny, overwhelmed smile.

‘That wasn’t even a proper kiss,’ he pointed out, and Yuzuru smiled, eyes dark and sparkling.

‘Who said anything about a proper kiss?’ Shoma sucked at his bottom lip, narrowing his eyes at Yuzuru in challenge.

‘Oh, if  you’re stealing my breakfast? I am so getting a proper kiss. You’ll see.’ Yuzuru laughed, nodding slowly and leaning for a quick, chaste peck on the lips.

‘Remind me I owe you when we’re not being stared at then,’ he whispered, and Shoma let out a faint, high laugh, his blush intensifying slightly as he drew away from Yuzuru somewhat self-consciously and rolled his eyes.

‘You’re the worst,’ he groaned, and Yuzuru shrugged, stealing anther forkful of pancake.

‘Maybe. But so are you,’ he replied. ‘Hmm, it’s almost like we belong together, huh?’

‘Shut up.’

‘You know that’s never happening.’

 

Nathan cleared his throat then, leaning forward towards Boyang and Jason, sly and pointedly conspiratorial as he tipped his body towards them.

‘Hey, so…does anyone know if there’s a word for being a third wheel at a table where there are actually five people?’ he enquired, and Shoma shot him a half-hearted glare, laughingly punching at his arm as he settled back with a grin.

‘I don’t know about that, but I do know I’m not translating any of that conversation out of Japanese, so don’t ask,’ Jason offered warmly, flashing Shoma quick wink.

‘Oh, don’t worry; the only one in danger of needing all the details here is Boyang,’ Nathan said, nodding his head in Boyang’s direction and laughing at his outraged expression.

‘Hey! I’m not nosy!’ Boyang protested.

‘No, but you do look pretty close to doing the dreamy sigh people do when they’re way too into someone else’s boyfriend,’ Jason pointed out with a laugh, and Boyang pouted, huffing out a breath and folding his arms.

‘I like when Yuzu’s here, what’s wrong with that, huh?’ he sulked, and Nathan narrowed his eyes at him slightly.

‘Yeah, no, I’m sorry, man, but…you’re still way too invested, honestly,’ he chuckled, and Boyang smacked at him lightly, fighting off a laugh and rolling his eyes. Yuzuru shot him a conciliatory smile.

‘Don’t worry, Boyang, I totally get it: I’m kind of a joy to have around, right?’ he joked, reaching out to offer Boyang a high five that he happily accepted.

‘See! Yuzu understands me,’ Boyang declared with a grin, and Shoma snorted, rolling his eyes.

‘Please don’t feed his ego; if his head gets any bigger he’s gonna topple over, and you know I’ll be the one expected to prop him back up again,’ he said dryly, smirking when Yuzuru flicked his temple reproachfully and sticking his tongue out at him in response.

‘Maybe Boyang would be a safer bet for a boyfriend, Yuzu,’ Jason teased, widening his eyes at Shoma pointedly and laughing when Shoma threw a balled-up napkin at him. ‘Just a suggestion,’ Jason sing-songed, ducking out of the path of the missile and flashing Shoma a silly smile that he couldn’t quite resist.

‘It’s possible,’ Yuzuru shrugged casually. ‘But maybe I like a challenge, huh?’ He glanced at Shoma with a secret smile and Shoma smiled back at him, leaning against him just a little. ‘Besides, Shoma has already used up a lot of my time at this point – switching him out now would seem like a waste.’ Shoma elbowed him and Yuzuru laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead and offering him a quick wink. Boyang put his chin in his hands and let out a happy sigh, and Nathan rolled his eyes, shaking his head at them all despairingly.

‘Man, and I thought you guys would be better company for breakfast than Team USA.’

‘Hey, right now? I would take third-wheeling over Team USA in a heartbeat,’ Jason put in with a shudder, and Yuzuru widened his eyes, popping another strawberry in his mouth and nodding.

‘Yeah, you Americans are in a mess – you should be grateful to us for letting ourselves be seen with you,’ he said with a wicked grin, and Jason grimaced slightly.

‘You’re kidding but…honestly? I’m not sure you’re wrong.’ Yuzuru laughed, offering Jason a gentle smile.

‘Don’t worry, me and Shoma have low standards,’ he shrugged, and Shoma nodded, stealing back his plate and stabbing at his pancakes with a sly smile, bumping Yuzuru’s shoulder with his own.

‘Really low standards; I mean…we let ourselves be seen with each other all the time.’

 

Yuzuru elbowed him and Shoma elbowed back, the two of them jostling laughingly for a moment before Shoma noticed Nathan watching them out of the corner of his eye, and he pulled a face at him, rolling his eyes. ‘What?’ he sighed, flopping to sit back a little and giving Yuzuru one final dig in the side, biting back a smirk when Yuzuru yelped in surprise and almost dropped his fork. Yuzuru kicked his ankle and Shoma kicked back. Nathan shook his head at them slightly, looking down with a curious, unreadable smile.

‘How do you do it?’ he asked, flicking an almost shy glance up at the two of them, and Shoma and Yuzuru frowned back at him slightly.

‘Huh?’ Yuzuru asked, letting out a soft laugh and tilting his head. His scrunched-up face and curled lip could have been unkind, Shoma supposed, but in Yuzuru’s eyes was a warmth, a genuine curiosity that couldn’t be denied, and Nathan seemed to see it too, his smile widening just a little as he glanced down with an awkward shrugged.

‘I don’t know…I mean…you guys were best friends, right? I mean, you still are.’ He shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his seat. ‘So…how do you do that; like, cross over into something?’ Yuzuru’s expression gentled a little, and he shrugged, taking a bite of Shoma’s pancake and licking a trace of chocolate sauce from his lips.

‘I don’t know; all at once and way too slowly, I guess? Mostly without noticing until it gets to a point where it’s kind of always on your mind?’ He smiled lopsidedly. ‘It’s not like it changes anything, fundamentally. You just need to use impulse control slightly less, I guess. I mean…according to Shoma it’s all just chemicals anyway, so the only science at play is kinda dumb, honestly.’ Shoma shot him a weak glare and he smiled back unapologetically before casting Nathan another thoughtful glance. ‘Since I’m hoping you’re not trying to get Shoma to be your boyfriend…I’m wondering why it is it matters to you?’ he enquired gently, and Nathan shot him a dry look, lips curling into a faint smile as he rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, no, you’re safe; no offence to Shoma but…really not what I’m looking for.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, lifting one shoulder in a lazy shrug.

‘Offence taken, but ok,’ he said slyly, and Nathan laughed, giving him a slight shove and shaking his head. ‘You know, if this is about Mai then I’m not getting involved, right? She is the last person in Team Japan who understands the concept of privacy and I kinda don’t want to betray her.’ Nathan pulled a face.

‘Don’t worry – no matter what people think? Mai is honestly just my friend.’

‘That was what Shoma called Yuzu until, like, a week ago though, so maybe don’t take that totally seriously, huh?’ Jason pointed out with a twinkling smile, and Shoma kicked his shin.

‘You know what, I should’ve stayed in Japan.’

‘Oh, and left me for dead?’ Yuzuru said indignantly, and Shoma stuck his tongue out at him.

‘You would’ve been fine; survival is, like, you favourite party trick.’ Yuzuru laughed, knocking into him.

‘There you go with the tender concern again, huh,’ he smiled, voice rough and warm as he leant in just a little, and Shoma looked up at him with dark, glittering eyes.

‘I’m Shoma – what do you expect?’ he asked softly, and Yuzuru hummed, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

‘Absolutely nothing more than what I get,’ he murmured. ‘You’re Shoma – that’s perfect.’ He pulled back, looking at Shoma with a gentle, full smile, his gaze lingering for just a beat before he glanced back at Nathan curiously. ‘So, if it’s not about Shoma…and it’s not about Mai…what is it about exactly?’ Nathan sighed, giving a small shake of his head and turning his eyes to the ceiling with a tired smile.

‘I don’t know, honestly. Things have just felt so disconnected here lately. Raf is great as a mentor when you’re actually talking to him, but he goes off and tells the ministry and the press all this stuff that makes me feel like he didn’t listen to a word I’ve said. Team USA are all over the place, a bunch of crazy people tried to kill one of the best guys out there and…the world’s reaction was “Oh, he probably did it himself for kicks” which is just…wild to me.’ He shook his head and offered Yuzuru a rueful smile. ‘I guess I’m just trying to hope there is definitely a bright side to all the blood, sweat and tears we put into this stuff, you know? We’re maybe not going it alone for a universe that fundamentally sucks because…even if the powers that be are kind of awful and no one really has any gratitude for anything we do here…it’s still possible to find the bright side and make sense of the chaos once in a while.’ He gestured vaguely between Shoma and Yuzuru, giving a small shrug. ‘After everything you guys have had to put up with, it would be easy for you to say screw everything and basically not trust the world to get anything right. But instead you…found your, like, “ride or die” or whatever. It’s kind of cool.’ There was a slight pause, Nathan looking shyly down at the table and Shoma gazing intently at Yuzuru’s hand in his own, running his finger idly along the back of it and sucking at his bottom lip. And then Jason let out a soft sigh, rolling his eyes.

‘Did you really just say “ride or die”, Nate? Because I am not translating that concept into Japanese for you – I wouldn’t even know where to start with that one,’ he joked, cutting the tension and coaxing a soft laugh out of Nathan. Yuzuru leant against Shoma a little, tipping his head to offer Nathan a soft smile.

‘I get it, you know,’ he said gently. ‘There’s plenty of reasons why it feels hopeless sometimes; the world can be cold and lonely and awful and the people in charge don’t always seem to have their hearts in the right places. But…all you can do is be sure to guard yours. Put your heart into the right things, the right people. Use your power that way, and your voice that way…and good people, good moments will follow. Sometimes you have to be the one to make the move, though; the sunrise is no good to you unless you lift yourself up and open the window – you have to decide to let the light in sometimes. And once you do? Nothing feels the same ever again. Something good can last a moment, but if it is important, the echoes outlast it. You can choose to sit in the dark forever and never know, or you can accept that sometimes to let the light it, we must also acknowledge all the darkness at the edges also, for the contrast it provides, for the meaning it helps us find.’ Beneath the table, Shoma squeezed Yuzuru’s hand even tighter, smiling and closing his eyes to breath in the feeling of answering lighting, savouring the heat at his pulse point as his power mark glowed a brighter gold, a roll of thunder sinking into his veins.

 

It was probably the sugar rush from a second round of pancakes being ordered and Yuzuru obligingly letting him steal from his plate of double-chocolate without complaint, but Shoma knew his mood had brightened with Yuzuru’s arrival, a few more of his usual social guards falling away immediately, his muscles untensing and his smiles coming more easily; Yuzuru brought with him a curious mixture of calm and thrill that seemed to coax him out of himself without him having to make any conscious effort to be more social, but he was, nevertheless, grateful for the held hand beneath the table, the occasional brush of his thumb across his skin, pressing just hard enough that Shoma knew it was deliberate, even if he was looking the other way at the time. For half an hour on a Saturday morning eating pancakes, Shoma just felt like Shoma – and, perhaps more importantly, Yuzuru just felt like Yuzuru, the boy his parents liked and his brother joked with, who delivered him one-in-the-morning hot chocolate in Disney mugs and let him borrow his fancy headphones even after learning the fate of a hundred of Shoma’s own pairs before them. It made them seem unextraordinary in that simple, pleasant way that Shoma had rarely even known before he had come to the Foundation; his secret had never been far from his mind, his power always playing at his edges and a restlessness beneath his skin, and he knew Yuzuru had always been the same.

 

When Yuzuru’s phone rang it was as sharp as the sound of breaking glass in Shoma’s ears, and he knew Yuzuru knew it, because he hesitated before picking it up, giving Shoma’s fingers one final, lingering squeeze before he reached into his pocket to read the message.

‘Who wants you this time?’ Shoma asked, stabbing his fork into a piece of one of Yuzuru’s chocolate chip pancakes with more force than was really necessary, and Yuzuru knocked against his shoulder gently, offering him an impish smile.

‘Oh, this time I’m not the one who is in demand,’ he said lightly, pushing his plate towards Shoma with a shrug. ‘Eat up – it’s almost time for us to go meet your friend at the main gate.’ Shoma’s eyes widened, and he sat up a little, a twitch of a hopeful smile crossing his face.

‘Wait, Sota’s here already?’ Yuzuru nodded.

‘Almost. I told the driver to let me know when they reached the perimeter check-post. You have about fifteen minutes to stuff your face with as many pancakes as you can manage, then we have to go.’ Shoma pursed his lips, tipping his head slightly.

‘Was that a challenge?’ he asked, and Yuzuru laughed.

‘More like…an invitation. I’m full anyway. And I like that your kisses are gonna taste of chocolate for the rest of the day.’

 

As they stepped out into the cool air of the courtyard, Yuzuru seemed to still have some of last night clinging to him; his outline was butterflies and sparks every time Shoma closed his eyes, his energy all stars and meteor showers, and Shoma would’ve happily followed him anywhere, something in him willing to trail in the wake of his silly, humming insistence as it vibrated through the peaceful damp of the morning air. The sky had greyed over a little whilst they’d been inside, a mist of pleasantly cold rain dusting Shoma’s cheeks as he looked up at the thick white of the sky closing in around the buildings in seamless blank sheets of cloud; no one seemed to be around, and the loudest sound beside Yuzuru’s drums was the splash of their feet through the puddles as Shoma let his hand be grabbed and tugged at. Yuzuru laughed and pulled at him, spinning him around to face him before grabbing his other hand and jerking him closer, and Shoma smiled back at him, fond and faintly despairing as he half-stumbled into the circle of his gravity, feeling the magnetic rush of lightning and gold ribbons as their bodies drew closer. He breathed out a laugh, shivering as Yuzuru reached up to brush at his fringe and dipped in close enough to kiss, his breath tickling Shoma’s skin as he nudged in, ghosting past his lips; Shoma stretched up on instinct, eyes flickering closed and body straining as Yuzuru held himself in perfect balance, close enough for Shoma to feel the curve of his smile but not taste the sugar and marshmallow of his lips. Yuzuru’s fingers were curled at his neck, cool and feather-light, and Shoma drew in a hum of breath, bringing a hand up to Yuzuru’s shoulder to pull himself still further up, smiling as he felt Yuzuru’s fingers twist a little, his nails dragging lightly against his skin with pleasant reverence. For a moment – a heartbeat – they stood like that, and then, finally, Shoma felt the vibration of soft laughter go through Yuzuru’s ribs, the sound so quiet he felt it in his bones more strongly than he heard it; Yuzuru dipped his head again and captured Shoma’s lips, hand drifting down to his waist and moving to press at the small of his back, pushing him up still further to meet the kiss. It felt slow and just a little clumsy, the way they drew together, force against force; Shoma’s body was stubborn power and Yuzuru’s flighty grace, and there was a wild, giddy sort of urgency in both of them that made the kiss both deep and frivolous, determined but broken up by unevenly drawn breaths and laughter as it fragmented into a series of smaller, sweeter kisses, Yuzuru still drawing Shoma impossibly closer, up and up until their eyes were perfectly level and Shoma’s body was all stretch and need.

‘Yuzu,’ Shoma laughed breathlessly, drawing back just enough to rest his forehead against Yuzuru’s, eyes blinking open for a moment to look unfocusedly into Yuzuru’s face. He moved his hand up to Yuzuru’s neck, his fingers tugging faintly at Yuzuru’s hair and dragging a hum from the back of his throat that made Shoma smile and close his eyes again. ‘What are you doing?’ Shoma asked with another laugh, and Yuzuru smiled, tipped his head to press another peck to the corner of Shoma’s lips.

‘Kissing you,’ Yuzuru said, pressing a kiss to the square of Shoma’s jaw and smiling slyly when he heard the hitch of his breath. ‘You always feel like the sun,’ he added then, pulling back to study Shoma’s face for a moment, eyes wandering the smooth, open plains of it as he tucked some of his hair back into place with a twitch of a smile. Shoma smiled too, shuddering again as Yuzuru’s knuckles grazed his cheek. ‘What’s so wrong with that, huh?’ Shoma closed his eyes and drew in a whimper of a breath as Yuzuru’s fingers dragged lower, following the line of his neck before he dipped in to press a kiss to it.

‘Aren’t you worried about someone seeing us?’ Shoma asked, voice frustratingly thin as he twisted against Yuzuru with a sigh, tipping his head to allow another kiss to be pressed behind his ear before he carefully leant back in his arms, pulling his body back up to look into Yuzuru’s face.

‘The press are always sent home on weekends – Brian’s rules,’ Yuzuru said as he pressed a kiss to Shoma’s cheek.

‘The ministry?’ Shoma asked as Yuzuru fussed at his fringe again then kissed his forehead. Yuzuru’s smile was small but sharp, his eyes sparkling as he moved back in to kiss his temple, unbothered and sweet.

‘In the Foundation boardroom complaining about us both to a selection of trustees – they’ll be busy ‘til at least lunchtime.’ Shoma laughed slightly, squirming and closing his eyes once more as Yuzuru kissed his chin and then his jawline again.

‘Adam and Ashley?’ Yuzuru hummed and kissed the corner of his eye.

‘Frozen,’ Yuzuru murmured, resting his forehead to Shoma’s and reaching up to touch his cheek, dragging the pad of his thumb beneath his eye. ‘Tracy will pretend to be mad about it later, but for now? I don’t care. I just want to be alone with you. Only you.’ Shoma let out a soft laugh, arching back and looking up into Yuzuru’s face with shining eyes and a heavy smile.

‘You really don’t need to work so hard just to be alone with me, you know,’ he whispered, and Yuzuru shrugged, kissing the tip of his nose.

‘Sure I do,’ he replied simply, hands moving to Shoma’s waist. ‘Who ever wanted to read a story about the moment that came easily?’ Shoma’s smile twisted into a quieter thing, and he shook his head slightly, pushing up to press a quick kiss to Yuzuru’s lips.

‘But being with you is always easy for me. And it’s the story I want to tell forever.’ Yuzuru smiled at him, pressing his fingers a little more determinedly into his skin.

‘If it was all Friday nights and cherry blossom, no one would want to listen, though,’ he said softly. ‘There has to be a little war – a little sky-falling and shadow-dancing. I’m a storm and you’re the centre of the universe; now that’s a story, don’t you think?’ Shoma gazed up at him with a dazed smile, haunted and captured and heavy, and Yuzuru gazed back, his outline lit up by the luminously colourless sky beyond and his skin glittering with a sheen of misty rain – the most beautiful thing, the most incredible, maddening thing. He touched a hand to Shoma’s chin and Shoma shivered; the scent of powdery bergamot and heavy, damp leaves filled his senses and he closed his eyes, holding his breath as Yuzuru closed the gap and captured his lips once again. This time the kiss was something slower, something languid and unravelling; Yuzuru held Shoma with just enough pressure that, if he wanted to, he could’ve slipped off, lowered himself back down to the ground and stepped away, drawn in some cooler air and dispelled the heat from his cheeks – but Shoma didn’t want to, and he made himself a stubborn, steady weight in Yuzuru’s arms, dragging himself up and up still further into the kiss, his nails scratching lightly along the skin at the nape of his neck and drawing out a low, humming hiss from Yuzuru’s throat that skimmed Shoma’s lips and made him smile. He pulled back for a beat and Yuzuru chased him, so Shoma let himself be caught, rising up to meet his lips with an insistent press of cracked red skin against soft, plump marshmallow. He felt Yuzuru’s thumb press at his pulse point, and he gasped against the kiss as a thrill of lightning shot through his nerve endings, and Yuzuru let out a soft laugh, dipping to kiss the same spot as Shoma clung to him, not entirely sure he was capable of supporting his own weight any longer as Yuzuru left a trail of kisses from his neck, to his jaw to the side of his face and behind his ear before returning to give a sweet, full-stop of a peck to Shoma’s lips, reaching up to drag a thumb along them, seemingly enchanted by the rough catch of the chapped skin against his fingertips.

 

When they finally drew apart again, Shoma let out a rush of breath, his eyes flickering open to look blearily into Yuzuru’s face; his expression was all wonder, like Shoma was some treasured, rare thing, and Shoma blinked, helpless to do anything but stare back, his chest tight and his smile a whisper of a thing.

‘Wow,’ he let out, his voice a squeak of barely-there breath as Yuzuru lowered him back down with a sort of reverent kindness that made him feel safe, secure. His feet were barely back on the ground, but still somehow he had a clear sense of knowing exactly where he stood. Yuzuru’s face crinkled up in fond amusement as he touched a light finger to the marks on Shoma’s cheeks then brushed once more at his fringe, kissing his temple sweetly.

‘“Wow”, Shoma? Really?’ he asked, leaning back to meet his gaze. ‘One of the sharpest wits I’ve ever known – one of the purest sources of power on the whole planet…and the best you can come up with is “wow”?’ Yuzuru ducked in to steal another kiss and Shoma laughed breathily, letting the kiss linger for a little while, moving into Yuzuru’s body easily before pulling back to look up into his eyes with a smile that was as sly as it was awed. ‘Well?’  Yuzuru asked, touching their foreheads together, and Shoma’s lips twisted slightly as he gave a shy, one-shouldered shrug.

‘I don’t know…I’d say “wow” still kind of covers it.’

‘If that’s just a “wow”, what do I have to do for a real speech, huh?’ Yuzuru laughed, running a fingertip from Shoma’s brow to the square of his jaw. Shoma pursed his lips.

‘I don’t know – but I’m fine with you trying to find out.’ Shoma’s sunlight roared to the surface of his skin as Yuzuru’s laughed delightedly, the sound strangely soft and delicate, his breath brushing Shoma’s skin as he moved in to kiss the top of his head fondly.

‘You’re terrible,’ he said into Shoma’s hair, moving to rest his cheek there. ‘Never change.’ Shoma’s smile gentled and he closed his eyes, drawing himself into the protective circle of Yuzuru’s presence with a contented sigh. ‘It’s a good job no one else can sense, huh?’ Yuzuru whispered into the quiet. ‘You’re all screaming colour and vibration in my head.’ Shoma blushed, pulling back enough to thump a weak fist against his chest in protest.

‘Good. Then you know what it feels like to sense you _all the time_ – just imagine what you feel like right now,’ he shot back weakly, and when Yuzuru just beamed at him he let out a strangled laugh and rolled his eyes. ‘Stop looking so pleased with yourself.’

‘How can I not be pleased; my stoic, unrufflable boyfriend just admitted to being blazing and undone – there is a challenge in my Shoma, but there is always honesty too, this is what I like most of all.’ Shoma huffed out a laugh, shaking his head slightly as Yuzuru pulled at him with impish insistence; his hair was damp, his cheeks stinging from the coldness of the air, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel like he didn’t belong there, with Yuzuru, anchored to him and weighted down into the ground on which they stood. A memory made of an ache of rock and mud and shifting sand – a piece of earth which was theirs now. Yuzuru sighed, soft and exhausted and content, and he kissed the tip of Shoma’s nose. ‘I hope you know your place here is still yours and always was,’ he whispered, reaching out and gently taking Shoma’s hand and bringing it up to press a kiss to his knuckles. ‘I know you still think you took this chance from your friend, Shoma…but…I hope you don’t mind if I’m selfish and say…I’m glad it was you. I’m glad you came here. I’m glad you were the one who walked this path first. So I could find you. And you could find me.’ Shoma swallowed, a wet, pink smile ebbing into his features as he glanced down somewhat shyly.

‘What, you don’t think Sota wouldn’t have been happy to take on your midnights and your lightning?”  Yuzuru touched a finger to his chin, bringing his eyes back up to his face and offering him a gentle smile.

‘You think I offer these things to just anybody?’ Yuzuru shrugged, leaning in to kiss Shoma’s forehead. ‘I only want you. You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only person I ever want.’ Shoma bit his lip, smiling in a faint, overwhelmed way and stretching up to cup Yuzuru’s face in his hand, using his other hand still joined with Yuzuru’s as leverage so he could push up onto his tiptoes and press a single, firm kiss the bridge of Yuzuru’s nose.

‘I only want you too,’ he whispered against his skin, squeezing at their joined hands as he lowered himself back down. ‘If Sota doesn’t like you he’s an idiot and he’s not my friend anymore,’ he added then, flashing Yuzuru a wry smile, and Yuzuru laughed faintly.

‘Please, everyone likes me – I’m not worried,’ he smiled, but Shoma felt him squeeze his hand gratefully, and he gave him a small nod, leaning his weight back further and further until he had to step out, smiling slyly up at Yuzuru as he used his weight to drag him with him. ‘Come on, Thunder Boy, we’re going to be late.’

 

Yuzuru laughed, half-stumbling towards him, his lips pursed and his head bobbing like he was debating the point in his head.

‘Hmm, so maybe we should send an envoy then,’ he said, bumping his shoulder into Shoma’s as he fell into step with him. His eyes were starry and sparkling, and Shoma felt his heart turn over in his chest as Yuzuru quirked eyebrow at him, making a show of holding one hand palm up in front of him. Shoma narrowed his eyes for a moment in a token show of resistance before he slowly, cautiously raised his own free hand up, making a mirror of Yuzuru’s pose. Yuzuru beamed at him, that delighted, enchanted look he always gave him that always made Shoma remember why he put up with his nonsense. He smiled back just a little, and Yuzuru gave a quick, enthusiastic nod, silly-giddy as he tugged tugging him a little closer. ‘Close your eyes,’ he whispered, placing his hand beneath Shoma’s own. There was a whip of lightning in the gesture and it invited Shoma’s power to his fingertips in an instant, their two powers always ready to react to each other, like two volatile chemicals which couldn’t help themselves; Shoma’s eyes fluttered closed and he instinctively held his breath against the influx of electricity working its way through his system. ‘What do you see?’ Yuzuru whispered. Shoma’s throat felt tight, and he had to work to hide a smile as, behind his eyes, a million golden butterflies danced and soared out of the blackness.

‘Magic,’ he laughed faintly, and he could feel the force of Yuzuru’s smile without needing to look.

‘Magic is good,’ Yuzuru murmured, his voice somehow musical in the cool air. He squeezed Shoma’s other hand, holding him close to his side and leaning down so his breath ghosted past Shoma’s ear as he breathed out. ‘ _Now wish_.’ The instruction was a hum, punctuated with a kiss to the top of the curve of Shoma’s ear – quick and light and curiously overwhelming – and Shoma drew in a shiver of breath, letting Yuzuru’s power guide his own. Slowly he blinked his eyes open as he felt his power rush forwards, and he saw a tiny, golden thundercloud was now sitting in the palm of his hand. He smiled at it in wonder, and Yuzuru beamed at him like he was in awe – like he couldn’t have done the same thing himself with a simple flick of his wrist or a flutter of his eyelashes. Yuzuru pressed another kiss to Shoma’s skin, this time to his cheek, a high, happy laugh escaping him as he quickened his pace just a little, spinning to stand in front of Shoma and placing both his hands beneath Shoma’s own, leaning in to blow gently on the cloud so that it swirled and churned, silver threads filtering through the gold cloud like liquid, slowly shaping it into the outline of a butterfly. ‘Time to fly,’ Yuzuru told it in a silly, kind-hearted voice before straightening to watch as colours filtered into the butterfly’s wings, turning it black and red and making it flitter, raising up a little higher from Shoma’s palm, just enough for Yuzuru to be able to reach up and scoop it onto his own palm delicately. ‘Find Sota,’ he said then, simple and quiet, before holding his hand up and blowing out a breath to stir a breeze. He watched with a smile as the butterfly flapped once, twice, three times and then, gracefully, took off and launched out on its mission, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly and flicking Yuzuru a sidelong glance.

‘You ever heard of mobile phones, Hanyu?’ he asked lightly, and Yuzuru let out a happy laugh, grabbing Shoma’s hand again and tugging him close as they set off down the path once more. Their shoulders bumped, and Shoma felt a silly smile touch his face when their shoulders bumped as they walked.

 

In the end they made it just in time, the two of them coming down the final slope of the main path just as the car came to a halt on the grass verge by gates, and Shoma felt a strange, nervous thrill run through him, a prickle of unexpected anxiety creeping up through his chest that he couldn’t entirely place. Yuzuru squeezed his hand as they stopped, knocking his elbow against Shoma’s arm and offering him a warm, honest smile.

‘Do you feel that?’ he asked lightly, and Shoma gave him a small frown.

‘Huh?’ Yuzuru’s smile quirked up a little more at one corner, vaguely amused.

‘Your friend,’ he said softly. ‘He’s strong enough to sense all the way over here – he’s nervous and excited and…powerful…but…it’s muddy, like when raindrops on a window distort the view, you know?’ Shoma opened his mouth and then promptly closed it again, looking over to where the driver was opening the passenger door and moving to hand over some luggage and papers to one of the workers who had come up to greet him. Sometimes Shoma forgot how much more precise Yuzuru’s sensing power was, how he could isolate and decipher with so much more ease – much like the rest of their powers, Yuzuru’s sensing power was lass raw then Shoma’s, took in slightly less information at times but somehow did a little more with it, giving him more definite outlines of things. Shoma let his power go quieter for a moment, focusing only on what he could sense and working hard to filter it down from the usual hum of the Foundation, and there, just beyond the prickle of Yuzuru’s lightning at his side, was Sota, as rhythmic as a pendulum and just as steady as Shoma remembered him, his edges just a little ragged – Shoma felt the same shiver of shadow as Yuzuru did, and he let out a soft, overwhelmed little laugh, glancing up at Yuzuru with a wonky smile.

‘You know sometimes I forget who you are…or…not who but…what, I guess,’ he murmured, and Yuzuru tilted his head curiously. Shoma shrugged. ‘The way you use your power…the precision of it. I’m, like…the battery pack and you’re the controls, you know?’ Yuzuru’s eyes turned sparkly-dark, and he leant in just slightly, impish and giddy.

‘Or maybe like you’re the heart and I’m the compass, right?’ he remarked, and a half-smile crossed Shoma’s face as he let out a low groan, tipping his head back and bumping against Yuzuru’s side in gentle reprimand.

‘Except my way of putting it was less like a lesson, Yuzu,’ he whined, and Yuzuru laughed, knocking him back and pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

‘Stop being a smart mouth and go say hi to your friend,’ he said, and Shoma pulled back, shooting him a wry glare.

‘Like I can’t smart mouth you _and_ go say hi to my friend, Yuzu,’ he shot back with a wicked smile, affecting an airy sigh. ‘Sometimes it’s like you don’t know me at all.’ Yuzuru let out a bright, sparkling laugh, barging his hip into Shoma and then pushing him in the direction of the car with a shake of his head.

‘Go say hi to your friend before I lightning strike your dumb ass, you brat,’ he grinned, and Shoma smiled back at him, rough and quiet.

‘Please, I live every day with your lightning strikes, Thunder Boy; I’m not worried.’

 

As Shoma turned back he spotted Sota as he stepped somewhat hesitantly out of the car, nodding at something the driver said to him; he looked a little jetlagged but otherwise holding it together, and Shoma couldn’t help but smile slightly, an excitement which was all his own coming over him. There was something completely wild to him about seeing Sota at the Foundation – two definitions of home colliding as Yuzuru’s energy and Sota’s energy both hummed in his ears, curiously melodic and not as dissimilar as Shoma had always believed them to be – but as jarring as the sight was it somehow made perfect sense, and it stirred a kind of heady contentment in him that bubbled over, made him want to run and yell and play at being a kid again. ‘Sota!’ he called out, and Sota looked up, a genuine smile spreading over his face.

‘Shoma!’ he called back, and Shoma let out a small, giddy little laugh, breaking away from Yuzuru with a sudden rush as he half-ran the distance between himself and Sota, thudding up to him with messy happiness and instinctively wrapping him in a hug before he had even had time to make his usual offer of one.

‘It’s so good to see you,’ Shoma told him over his shoulder, his voice rough and earnest and his hug fierce, and Sota let out a faint laugh, sounding overwhelmed and exhausted but still somehow content as he squeezed him back warmly.

‘You just saw me the other week, Sho,’ he replied, and Shoma pulled a face, stepping back and rolling his eyes.

‘You couldn’t just say it was good to see me too?’ he sighed.

‘You want me to lie?’ Sota shot back with a grin, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him, biting back a laugh as Sota waggled his eyebrows at him in teasing challenge. Shoma was about to take the bait when, suddenly, he noticed something perched on top of Sota’s head and he faltered, fighting off a bubble of laughter; the small red and black butterfly beat its wings like it was greeting him, and he pursed his lips, flicking a glance back over his shoulder as Yuzuru came to join them.

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a show off?’ he asked lightly, and Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him, jabbing an elbow into his side before stepping forward and reaching up a hand that the butterfly flew down onto immediately.

‘Find the garden,’ he told it gently, bringing his hand up to his face and blowing the butterfly away on another gentle breeze, watching it for a second as though to be sure it was doing as it was told before he turned back to Shoma with a wrinkle of his nose.

‘It’s not showing off, it’s just…what I do,’ he shrugged and Shoma nodded sceptically up at him, his smile dry.

‘Yeah…and what you do is show off; that’s what it’s called when you can’t help being seen, Yuzu.’ Yuzuru pulled a face and Shoma simply grinned at him, his eyes dark and glittering as he turned back to a mildly-stunned Sota, rolling his eyes.

‘Sota, this is Yuzu. He’s a dramatic idiot but…he’s kinda my dramatic idiot so…put up with him for me? Please?’ Yuzuru pouted at him lightly and Shoma suppressed a smile, his lips twisting to one side as he shrugged. ‘Sota, Yuzu, Yuzu, Sota…that’s it, that’s all the introducing I’m doing, you two are going to have to figure out the rest. You both know enough about each other already, and if you repay me for that by making things awkward then that’s your own fault, not mine – you know I lack basic social skills half the time.’ Yuzuru let out a laugh, flicking Shoma’s ear and rolling his eyes before turning back to Sota with a warm smile, holding out his hand for Sota to shake. For a moment Sota hesitated, eyes wide and mouth parted, and Shoma smirked slightly at the mixture of panic, awe and genuine intrigue in his friend’s face. Sota wasn’t like Itsuki – he wasn’t going to pretend he had never seen a newspaper in his life or undercut the press of awareness about who Yuzuru was by making sly comments about him with messy charm and a lack of tact. But at the same time Sota wasn’t going to be rude; it wasn’t in him to treat Yuzuru like a headline, like a piece of salacious gossip brought forth from the page for interrogation. He was just going to be himself; honest, earnest, inquisitive and kind – he had always been perceptive, good at knowing exactly what it was people needed from him and offering it without question or reservation, and Shoma trusted him, instinctively, to not leave Yuzuru in a flicker of doubt about the warmth of his spirit.

‘Hi,’ Yuzuru said as Sota took his offered hand. ‘I’m Yuz-’

‘-zuru Hanyu. Yeah. I’ve lived my whole life on Earth…in Japan so…I…have seen your face…around. Everywhere. Once even found a figurine of you in my cereal box,’ Sota cut him off with a rush of a grin. ‘Hi. Sota Yamamoto. I once traded my last pack of gum for that cool little collector’s card thing of you they released for the Tokyo power conference? And if that doesn’t sound impressive, you should know it was my favourite flavour of gum – honey apple, really hard to get, so…like…I’m a fan. But not in the creepy way. In the…“your speeches got me through some wild stuff” way. I’m getting that out of there now so the air is clear.’ Sota bobbed his head, his smile endearingly shy and silly at the same time as he lifted his shoulders in an awkward shrug. ‘So…yeah…and you kiss Shoma now apparently, so…there’s that too I guess.’ He gestured dismissively with his hand, ignoring the glare Shoma shot him, and Yuzuru laughed, pulling a face.

‘Technically? Shoma started that. But sure, it’s a thing now…not usually the part of my CV people lead with, but ok.’ Shoma kicked at his shin, and Yuzuru kicked him back with a sly grin. ‘What, it’s true? You started it: you need me to conjure the memory to prove it?’ Shoma scowled at him and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose. ‘Why can’t you be nice to me like your friends?’ he asked with an airy sigh, bumping into Shoma’s shoulder, and Shoma pulled a face at him, bumping him back.

‘Because I actually have to live with you, Hanyu.’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘Sure, because I’m the one who insists you steal my blankets and my clothes and my midnights and makes you sleep so deeply I can’t budge you from my bed.’

‘Your whole personality is insisting stuff, you don’t give it a rest,’ Shoma said plainly, giving him a small shove and laughing when he made a grab for him, squirming as he tickled his side. ‘You’re only proving my point,’ he whimpered, elbowing him off, and Yuzuru laughed, sticking his tongue out at him.

‘Go away.’

‘Shan’t.’

‘Demon.’

‘Baby.’

 

Shoma was aware of Sota looking between the two of them thoughtfully as they jostled elbows, and he swallowed awkwardly, pulling a face. ‘As you can see, my boyfriend’s a real charmer,’ he deadpanned, keeping his expression as steady as he could when Yuzuru gave him one final, petulant shove that was hard enough to make him stagger slightly. Sota gave a small shake of his head, offering Shoma a kind-eyed smile.

‘Shoma, from someone who has agreed to take you on as a boyfriend? I would honestly be alarmed if there weren’t nightmare-levels of stubborn and really sharp elbows involved.’ Shoma laughed, glancing at Yuzuru with a fond smile before shooting Sota a knowing look.

‘So you’ve read Yuzu’s Foundation bio then.’ Yuzuru pulled a face at him and Shoma kicked his shin as he smothered a smirk, but Sota simply nodded, humming thoughtfully, his tone all joke but something serious in his gaze as he looked Shoma in the eye with a whisper of a smile.

‘Like I said before: I’m a fan,’ he said firmly. Shoma’s lungs felt tight with gratitude and affection, and he gave Sota a small nod, a thank you and an acknowledgement at the same time.

‘Good. Coz if you weren’t I might have to ditch one of  you…and he’s scarier so…’ Sota laughed, giving his shoulder a playful punch.

‘Oh I see how it is – people with power stick together, huh?’

‘Yeah. That and he really likes stealing my stuff,’ Yuzuru grinned impishly, laughing and dodging away when Shoma shoved him.

 

Shoma hadn’t been in any doubt that Sota and Yuzuru would like each other, but any fears he might have secretly harboured about things being made awkward by Sota’s long-held admiration of Yuzuru or Yuzuru’s new status as his boyfriend fell away easily as the three of them made their way up the path towards the main Foundation complex and began a haphazard tour of the grounds. Sota loved to learn and to ask unusual questions, and Yuzuru loved to talk and rediscover things through someone else’s point of view, and the two of them fell quickly and easily into conversation, not having any need for Shoma to mediate and both of them knowing him well enough to not take it personally when he occasionally drifted off inside his own head. There was nothing forced in the way Sota took to Yuzuru’s company, and it was easy, for the most part, for the three of them to fall into step as they wandered the Foundation grounds, talking about nice, mundane things like the best places to eat and the trick to getting the scanners to accept your ID card first time, but Shoma was still very much aware of a reservation in Yuzuru, the same self-conscious restraint he always had around people from outside the Foundation’s walls, and it made him ache. Because Yuzuru had been trained for years to believe he wasn’t enough – to fall into the trap of assuming that, when someone who mattered had their eyes on him, the soft-hearted, silly and very human version of him that existed beneath the surface would be picked at, scrutinised and found wanting. His words were wrong, his actions were inappropriate, his heart was too much and his power was not enough – and he had to hide it, make up for it, surpass whatever image it was he was being expected to live up to this time. Shoma loathed it, hated fiercely every person that had ever made him feel that way and resented the idea that it had become so engrained into Yuzuru’s character that sometimes he slipped and didn’t even realise he was doing it, falling back onto the PR version of himself. The only time he was ever completely free of it was when he was alone with Shoma, and that was the version of Yuzuru Shoma wanted Sota to know too, the messy one, the one whose smiles never faltered into something stiff and strained, whose tone of voice was rough and careless and whose shoulders sometimes sagged and slouched – the same Yuzuru who asked his brother about his exams and occasionally got hot chocolate stains on his clothes, the same Yuzuru who stole his fries and was never without his lip balm…the same Yuzuru who had told Shoma his secrets beneath the garden’s conjured sky. Every time he felt that Yuzuru begin to fade just a little, Shoma pushed back against him with sunlight, taking Yuzuru’s hand in both of his and playing with it absently, tracing patterns along his knuckles and up to his wrist, a faint kind of healing in the touch that sent dustings gold along Yuzuru’s skin; the words went unspoken, but Shoma knew Yuzuru felt it, knew from the slight squeeze he gave his hand and the way the colour would instantly filter back into his smiles, like he was being lit golden from within. Shoma kept his sunlight steady and sure, watching the patterns across Yuzuru’s skin turn into birds and falling feathers which took off and fluttered up along his arm and then dissolved, and he half-listened as the conversation moved on, happy to hear Sota’s voice slowly become more relaxed and less strained the more Yuzuru calmed into the fuller, quieter version of himself. He didn’t even mind when they broke off to tease him and jostle him and exchange stories of why he was a nightmare – because it was too much of a novelty to have the two of them in the same space for him to summon up the energy to resent them for their needling, it was too special having them both with him, learning each other the way he had let them both learn him.

 

‘Shoma – if you let go of his hand does he fly away?’ Sota asked dryly as they ducked through the doors of the clerical building to collect his arrival papers, Shoma getting awkwardly squashed between Yuzuru and Sota’s bodies and still refusing to drop Yuzuru’s hand.

‘He has wings: he might,’ Shoma pointed out in an arch tone, sticking his tongue out at Sota as he laughed at him.

‘Wings?’ Sota repeated with an amused, curious frown, and Yuzuru flashed him a smile, giving him a one-shouldered shrug.

‘He means my power mark,’ he explained matter-of-factly, knocking his elbow against Shoma’s as he cast him a sweet smile. ‘He’s obsessed with it lately.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose, elbowing Yuzuru back and flicking his hair out of his eyes.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Hanyu; you took out five different books on symbolism from the library after you saw my power mark, I didn’t even do a Google search after seeing yours.’ Yuzuru arched an eyebrow at him, an impish zigzag of lightning needling at Shoma with the look, making him shiver, and something about Yuzuru’s energy suddenly felt heavy-quiet and sepia-pink, dragging all of Shoma’s senses back to that morning, lying against Yuzuru’s side as he dragged a fingertip over his wings. He felt a bolt of lightning fly along his spine, tickling at him, and Yuzuru’s smile was knowing and bright as he leant in just a little, pressing against Shoma’s side even as Shoma glared at him half-heartedly. ‘I was bored, that doesn’t count,’ he protested in a huff, and Yuzuru nodded sceptically, doing a bad job of biting back a smile.

‘Of course. Bored,’ he hummed, glancing over at Sota and offering him a blithe shrug. ‘I have wings as a power mark. And Shoma doesn’t care about them at all.’ Sota laughed, nodding slowly.

‘Good to know.’ He bit his lip, glancing down. ‘You know mine’s a butterfly I guess,’ he added then, pulling a face. ‘Or it was. I suppose it still is really – it’s not like it changed shape or anything it just…changed.’

 

There was a flicker in Sota’s energy then, so faint a sensation it felt to Shoma like when a shadow would pass over his face as he slept in a patch of sunlight, there and not there at the same time, and he knew in an instant Yuzuru had noticed it too, could see something in his face change and shift, an alertness in his eyes and a softness in his smile that was so powerfully Yuzuru – unfiltered and undeniable – that it made Shoma smile slightly. Yuzuru stilled immediately, placing a kind hand on Sota’s arm and tipping his head slightly to meet his gaze.

‘But _you_ didn’t change,’ he said, his voice profoundly gentle but still somehow firm; as always, Yuzuru was delicate on the surface but all force underneath, and although Sota couldn’t sense, Shoma was sure he still felt it somehow, could see it in the way his expression cleared instantly as he looked at him. ‘You didn’t change or compromise; you continued to believe in magic even when it seemed like magic didn’t care for you any longer – that’s what matters. You withstood and you grew; proof the butterfly would still be your mark even if they had erased it from your skin entirely.’ Shoma knew, with confidence, he couldn’t love Yuzuru more, but if it had been possible, he would have loved more in that moment; he saw the look in Sota’s face, the immense relief and a different kind of wonder to the awed, star-struck look he had worn before, something deeper about the light in his eyes.

‘You want to watch it; this is the part where he blinds you with the full force of his personality and gets you to show him your power mark,’ Shoma said dryly, knocking into Yuzuru’s side and flicking him a quiet, knowing smile, and Yuzuru’s lips twitched up slightly, some of his force quietening and a little more of his sweetness coming into his face as he wrinkled his nose, bumping his shoulder into Shoma’s softly. Sota looked between the two of them with a vaguely impish smirk, quirking an eyebrow.

‘I mean…I’m fine with that but…there’s no requirement that I have to fall in love with him after is there? Because, I’ve got flights home booked for a month from now and I feel like that could really get in the way…’ Shoma tried to glare at him, but Sota simply grinned. ‘What?! It certainly got in the way of your homecoming plans.’ Shoma huffed and Yuzuru suppressed a smile, scrunching his face up in a playful grimace.

‘In his defence? I did almost get myself killed. It disrupted a lot of things for a lot of people.’ He tipped his head slightly. ‘Me surviving disrupted a lot of things for a lot of people too though…so, I’m just special I guess.’ Sota laughed, giving a small nod and looking Shoma up and down thoughtfully.

‘Oh, I think Shoma certainly thinks you’re special – and…I still don’t see a plane ticket in his hand, huh?’ Yuzuru’s eyes twinkled, and he pursed his lips.

‘Well, I can be very persuasive,’ he shrugged before narrowing his eyes just slightly, his expression shifting into something almost guilty. ‘So…’ he ventured with a wince, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes.

‘Ok, _this_ is the bit where he asks to see your power mark then, apparently.’ Yuzuru shot him a weak glare, giving him a dull thump on the shoulder before looking back at Sota apologetically.

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ he said softly, but Sota offered him a genuine smile, shaking his head slightly.

‘No, it’s fine. I mean…it’s kind of why I’m here…right?’ Yuzuru’s features crumpled into a hint of a frown.

‘You’re not here just because of what happened to your power – you’re here because it happened and yet you still believe in things, you still know what it is to hope and to want to help. As long as you have hope and magic in you, you belong at the Foundation.’ Sota smiled, nodding somewhat shyly and glancing down.

‘Ok…but it helps that I’m kinda weird, right?’ he said, lips curling into a hesitantly mischievous smile, and Yuzuru laughed then, bright and honey-sweet.

‘Always,’ he agreed. Sota grinned at him, nodding again before moving to roll up his sleeve.

 

It was strange to watch the ritual from outside of it, seeing Yuzuru step in and study someone else’s power mark. Shoma felt the faintest prickle of disappointment for a moment as he saw him use the same reverent touch he had used when he had first seen Shoma’s power mark, holding Sota’s arm lightly in both his hands and leaning in, but when he looked at his face he saw something different there – there was still the same care and genuine intrigue, but there wasn’t the same wonder in his eyes, his expression not quite the open, unguarded show of light it had been that night in the courtyard. Yuzuru had seen Shoma as something important from the start, then, had truly always looked at him like he was magic itself; the realisation made butterflies work their way through Shoma’s system, and he bit back a smile as Yuzuru cast him a bright, knowing sidelong glance before turning back to look down at Sota’s mark. ‘May I?’ he asked, moving to touch a finger to the butterfly’s edges, and Sota gave a small, uncertain little nod.

 

It was almost possible to miss the wince in Yuzuru’s features – but not to Shoma, who knew his face too well and was too attuned to the sense of his lightning to ignore the stutter in it as his fingertip grazed the hollow darkness that had filled out the lines of Sota’s power mark. Yuzuru drew in a sharp breath, closing his eyes for a beat and swallowing hard, and Shoma closed his eyes too, opening out his sunlight to him so he could take as much as he needed. When he opened his eyes again they met Yuzuru’s immediately, and the two shared a brief smile before Yuzuru quickly looked back down and withdrew his hand. ‘I remember that feeling,’ he whispered, wetting his lips and taking a steadying breath, eyes closing once more. Shoma felt him pull at his sunlight a little, and he held out his arm immediately, hooking his little finger around Yuzuru’s. Yuzuru’s lips curved at one corner, wry and a little tired. ‘I remember it from Boston,’ he added then, looking at Shoma with dark, wounded eyes, and Shoma nodded in understanding, stepping in close to rest his head against Yuzuru’s shoulder and letting sunlight opened out in the space between their palms.

‘The Alliance incident…there was more to it than the press knows about, right?’ Sota asked gently, and Yuzuru offered him a weak smile.

‘A little,’ he said with a fracture of a laugh, and Shoma took his hand fully then, the sunlight warm against his skin as he laced his fingers with Yuzuru’s and squeezed tightly. ‘I know what it feels like to have your power pushed to the limit of what it can take. And what it feels like to have it raked through you.’ He blew out a heavy sigh. ‘I also know what the shell left behind can feel like – I felt it in them.’

‘Snatchers?’ Sota asked nervously, and Shoma shook his head.

‘There’s more than just Snatchers to worry about,’ he murmured, glancing up into Yuzuru’s clouded features with concern. ‘There are some who aren’t quite there yet, some with powers that have been twisted up and repurposed. They tried to destroy Yuzu – they wanted his power for their own and when they realised it couldn’t be turned they just wanted it gone.’ Sota grimaced.

‘That’s…’ He shook his head slightly. ‘Awful doesn’t seem to really cover it.’ Yuzuru offered him a wan smile.

‘It’s ok,’ he murmured. ‘I had Shoma. And they definitely weren’t counting on that.’ Shoma smiled somewhat shyly, looking down, and Yuzuru squeezed his hand. ‘There is a point at which a power is pushed beyond what it can take – when there is no longer enough magic to sustain it. I think they took your power right up to the line; so finely balanced it shifted your power’s centre of gravity but didn’t take it. I can still sense your power, you know, just…it’s different, unbound in the way most people’s powers aren’t, like it has forgotten what its rules are.’ Yuzuru’s forehead creased a little in consideration. ‘Perhaps this is how the Alliance have come to be able to alter powers – they stretch them beyond the confines of classifications and the traditional cyclical ways of putting back what you take out…only they let you go before they could twist it into something malicious.’

‘So his power is lost…like it needs a compass?’ Shoma ventured, and when Yuzuru looked down at him he smiled slightly. Yuzuru smiled back.

‘And tired, like it could use a little heart.’ Shoma pursed his lips, and Yuzuru nudged against him fondly.

‘So…I’m not just flat-out broken after all?’ Sota put in, and Yuzuru looked at him with one of those curious, moonlit smiles of his that made Shoma’s heart perform complicated manoeuvres in his chest.

‘Oh, but everyone is a little bit broken,’ Yuzuru said, and Sota wrinkled his nose slightly.

‘Not you, though,’ he replied, and Shoma frowned slightly.

‘Yuzu most of all.’ He squeezed Yuzuru’s hand to show no harm was meant by the comment, and Yuzuru squeezed back, knowing and quiet as he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

‘You can carry a million fractures inside and still make sense; happy doesn’t require no fault lines, it requires a belief in what can be achieved when the light shines through,’ he said quietly, tipping his head to one side. ‘If you take a hundred pieces of broken glass and paint them in a hundred colours, you could piece them into something beautiful, you know? Like stained glass windows; the light shines through the pieces and those pieces tell a story…and when the sun comes through it casts patterns out across the floor, staining blurs of colour and magic where there was none before. There is magic in the pieces when they catch the light, but there is also something put out from that brokenness – the sunlight will always break through eventually, and the patterns on the floor become the promise of new stories…new colours and new magic and…fresh hope, to start all over again. The ingredients of magic are available even to the most damaged of us, we just have to hold ourselves up to the light and hope.’

 

Shoma wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but the words sent a curious chord of understanding through him, as though for a moment he could see an outline of something through the fog of his mind, and he opened his mouth to speak before quickly closing it again with a frustrated frown. ‘What is it, Shoma?’ Yuzuru asked, reaching up to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, and Shoma sighed, shaking his head slightly.

‘I don’t know…just…some connection I can’t quite make I guess,’ he sighed. ‘It’s probably nothing I just…something you said it…it made me think about what Tracy told us once about infusing emotions into something and giving it the ingredients to recreate itself…it was in a lecture, but I can’t…’ He huffed, chewing at his lip and looking down. ‘I don’t know, it was probably nothing but…’ He looked back at Yuzuru from the corner of his eyes. ‘Do you remember when you asked me to come to a lecture with you for the first time?’ Yuzuru nodded slowly. ‘Do you still have your notes from it?’ he asked. Yuzuru’s lips curled up somewhat mischievously.

‘Of course. You drew a trail of butterflies all over them after you got done doodling across your own,’ he said. ‘You think there might be something there?’ Shoma shrugged, worrying at his bottom lip slightly.

‘Maybe…I don’t know, it’s probably not a theory more of a…weird coincidence…it’s just a feeling I got, that’s all. Something about the ground being made to remember, I think? I don’t know, it just struck me as a similar concept, like there might be something bigger in it.’ Yuzuru lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Shoma’s knuckles.

‘I’ll find the notes and go over them; I wasn’t paying so much attention that day – someone kept distracting me,’ he smiled, and Shoma felt his cheeks go hot as he risked a glance up once more. Yuzuru’s eyes sparkled and Shoma let out a faint laugh, pulling a face.

‘It’s not my fault you kept wanting to know what I was drawing, Yuzu.’

‘It was your fault I kept wanting to see you smile though.’

‘And it’s going to be both your faults if I throw up any second now, just so you know,’ Sota cut in brightly, and Shoma shot him a joking glare.

‘Oh, shut up and go cry to Itsuki – you guys can start some sort of club together or something,’ he sighed, and Sota laughed, offering Shoma a warm smile.

‘You know we wouldn’t mock you if we didn’t care, right?’ he said, and Shoma rolled his eyes at him.

‘And you know I could kill you both and get away with it, right?’ he challenged, and Yuzuru laughed, barging into his shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

‘It could be worse, Shoma – my best friends are Javi and Team Japan, and you know they have even less mercy.’

 

Shoma was about to complain that he had to put up with Javier and Team Japan as well when the three of them were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and they turned to see Tracy standing behind them, an expression on her face that was somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

‘Yuzuru Hanyu,’ she said, folding her arms and fixing her shining gaze upon Yuzuru, whose expression turned somewhat chagrined even as he fought to stifle a laugh. ‘Would you care to explain to me why I just came from unfreezing two members of Team USA in the lobby of the mentors’ building?’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, humming for a moment and tipping his head back and forth as he considered the question.

‘I mean…you were the one who unfroze them so…I wouldn’t really know what your reasons were,’ he said, his voice all sweetness and innocence even as his eyes glittered impishly, and Tracy had to work hard not to laugh, narrowing her eyes at him.

‘Yuzu, you can’t just freeze people because they say something you don’t like,’ she sighed. ‘We’re all very aware of the situation with some of Rafael’s…livelier students right now, but that doesn’t give you the right to just halt their day because you have the power to.’ She flicked a glance over to Shoma then. ‘Especially not if a large part of the reason you are doing it is so you can sneak off with your boyfriend in privacy – what next, you’ll be freezing Brian and the Japanese minister, eh?’ Yuzuru opened his mouth and Tracy quickly held up a finger in warning. ‘That was not intended as a suggestion, Yuzuru,’ she said, her tone an attempt at a warning which was undercut by the smile curving her lips as she tipped her head slightly. ‘The minister I could maybe allow, but at least leave Brian be, hmm?’ Yuzuru laughed.

‘I would never freeze Brian.’ He shrugged. ‘Adam and Ashley were fine to be frozen – they weren’t doing anything helpful. Only gossiping. And Ghislain said it would be ok.’

‘Because Ghislain doesn’t know how to say no to you and you abuse that fact at every opportunity you get – I also highly doubt you told him the full story of what you intended to do.’ Yuzuru caught his bottom lip between his teeth somewhat guiltily and Tracy sighed, shaking her head at him with fond despair. ‘I thought so.’

‘Do you need me for something or did you just come to tell me off?’ Yuzuru enquired, and Tracy offered him a sympathetic smile.

‘Oh, believe me, if I could’ve left telling you off until our next meeting I would’ve done – it is not entirely beyond me to understand you had your reasons.’ She shrugged. ‘Sadly a situation with some of the trustees has come up and they want a discussion about funding and potentially putting you forward for some more sponsorships. Brian said he wouldn’t even discuss putting any more weight on your shoulders without talking to you first…and they then demanded he find you as soon as possible…which was not his intention but, unfortunately, we’re in an awkward spot with this one. I’m afraid you’re probably going to be tied up in conference calls for the rest of the afternoon.’ Yuzuru sighed heavily, giving Tracy a resigned nod before glancing apologetically at Shoma.

‘Think you can get Sota to his room without losing his keys and papers?’ he asked wryly, and Shoma narrowed his eyes at him.

‘You’re lucky I feel sorry for you right now, because really? I should kick you for that.’ Yuzuru scrunched his face up at him, leaning in to touch their foreheads together.

‘Sorry,’ he said earnestly, and Shoma’s face crumpled instantly into a sad smile. He brushed his thumb across Yuzuru’s hand with a sigh.

‘It’s not your fault,’ he whispered, and Yuzuru kissed the tip of his nose.

‘Thank you.’ The words were a murmur, only just loud enough for Shoma to hear, and he squeezed Yuzuru’s fingers in response before pulling back to look up into his face.

‘Midnight?’ he asked hopefully, and a smile ghosted across Yuzuru’s lips as he nodded slowly.

‘Midnight sounds good,’ he agreed softly. ‘I hope you survive the party without me.’

‘Please; this way I get to hide at the back with Keiji instead of being dragged into a hundred conversations by virtue of being stuck next to you,’ Shoma shot back, his voice dry but his eyes heavy-dark and quiet, and he knew Yuzuru saw through him. He closed his eyes and let Yuzuru press a kiss to his forehead before glancing back up at him with a gentle smile. ‘Go. I managed twenty years of my own company before you – I think I can manage one night.’ Yuzuru laughed, nodding slowly then drawing himself back up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and stepping away. He took a deep breath, cast Shoma one last look, then stepped back, letting his hand slip from Shoma’s as he turned to Tracy with a tight smile.

‘Brian’s office?’ Tracy nodded.

‘I’m sorry, Yuzu,’ she said, patting his shoulder as he came to join her, and Yuzuru shrugged.

‘There’s worse problems in the world,’ he sighed.

 

After Yuzuru bid his goodbyes, Shoma and Sota lapsed into a heavy quiet, Sota knowing Shoma well enough to let him have his peace for a little while as he took in the mild blow of disappointment at Yuzuru’s absence. He knew it was silly, knew he should be used to it by now – Yuzuru’s time constantly being stolen from him by people who didn’t deserve it, his need to rest always outweighed by some sense of entitlement others felt when it came to him, like whatever investments they had made in him were somehow his fault and it was his duty to pay them back no matter what the personal cost. But it still stung no matter how often he saw it, it still drew a protective fierceness out in him. Shoma was silent as they collected Sota’s keys and papers and headed for the residential block, his thoughts turned inwards as he tried to centre his power down on Yuzuru, giving him access to however much sunlight he felt he needed. Sota seemed happy to let the quiet stretch out – he was easy-going and understanding even when he wasn’t jetlagged, and Shoma was glad he didn’t have to answer a hundred questions, to pretend he was fine. As they made it to Sota’s room, Sota moved instinctively to the window to gaze out at the view, and, suddenly exhausted, Shoma collapsed onto the bed, splaying out like a starfish to gaze at the ceiling absently.

 

It was a good five minutes before Sota flopped down beside him, giving his side a gentle prod so that he shifted to make room for him to lie next to him on the bed.

‘So…’ he said into the silence, and Shoma folded his arms across his stomach, moving his head to look over at Sota expectantly. ‘This is weird, right?’ Sota said softly, his eyes staying fixed on a point on the ceiling and a slight crease forming on his forehead, and Shoma let out a soft laugh, nodding slowly and settling back so he too was looking upwards.

‘It’ll stay feeling weird for a couple of days,’ he replied quietly. ‘Or at least, it will in moments. And in other moments it will just feel weirdly normal – that’s kind of how it works around here. And unless you end up finding someone who happens to be cosmically linked to your power so that his lightning nags at you day and night and drags you out of bed so you can try and solve the riddle of it? You’ll probably have more chance to actually get hung up on the weirdness than I did.’ Sota laughed and Shoma smiled lopsidedly, lifting his shoulder in a tired shrug. ‘Who knows, though; Yuzu seems to like you, so you might be in with a chance.’ Sota let out an ungracious snort, elbowing Shoma sharply.

‘Like Yuzuru Hanyu’s eyes don’t adore you and only you, my friend,’ he shot back. Shoma smiled shyly and pulled a face.

‘It’s a curse, honestly,’ he said archly, and Sota smirked.

‘Oh yeah, you looked real cursed to me.’ Shoma elbowed him in the side and Sota swotted him away. ‘So…there’s a party?’ Shoma groaned.

‘Unfortunately.’ He sighed. ‘It’s kinda nice, though. That people here care enough about including everyone that they’d go to the trouble – they knew you were coming alone and that they probably won’t see you in sessions for a while, and they didn’t want you to think that meant you weren’t included.’

‘But you’d probably be happier about it if you knew you had Yuzu there, right?’ Sota said, and Shoma winced.

‘I’m the worst friend, right?’

‘No,’ Sota replied placidly, offering Shoma a soft smile. ‘You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. And…I get it.’ He shrugged. ‘I know you hate these things at the best of times – and as much as you might like the people there…it’s still a lot. It’s sensory overload. And…without Yuzu you don’t have any kind of buffer.’ Shoma wrinkled his nose.

‘Am I that obvious?’ Sota laughed.

‘Only to people who really know you.’ He nudged Shoma slightly. ‘I see it, you know; what he means to you.’ When Shoma still wouldn’t look at him he nudged at him again, a little more forcefully this time. ‘He makes you really happy, huh?’ Shoma sucked at the sore spot on his bottom lip, nodding slightly and swallowing down the lump in his throat.

‘Yeah,’ he let out with a scratch of breath, and Sota smiled, nodding and looking back up at the ceiling.

‘You’re in love with him.’ Blunt, simple, accurate. Shoma closed his eyes and nodded again.

‘How did you know?’ Sota let out a laugh.

‘Because I know you? Because it’s obvious?’ He gentled a little then, pursing his lips for a moment and drawing in a deep breath. ‘Also…in all the time we’ve been friends? Today was the first time you’ve ever just…hugged me without me having to ask first.’ Shoma glanced up in surprise, and Sota shrugged, his smile wonky but kind. ‘When he’s around you forget to pick at yourself – you don’t question or diminish it, you’re just you. And you’re happy with that. It’s nice.’ Shoma smiled back, giving the tiniest of nods and looking down.

‘So…is this the part where you tell me to be careful?

‘Why would I, huh? What’s the point?’ Sota shook his head. ‘He looks at you like you’re sunrise; like all the hope and wonder in the world is tied up in you and he wants to fight for it.’ He shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t question it either, if someone looked at me like that; you can’t doubt someone who loves you like that, I don’t think. They don’t have to say anything or prove it – it’s just there, in everything they do.’

 

There was another pause – a heavy peace pierced only by the distant sound of the birds as they drifted out onto the afternoon breeze. Sota’s room was on the same floor as Shoma’s, up just high enough above the clouds to be part of the bob and sway of the seabirds’ world more than the hum and chaos of the Foundation complex below; it should’ve been relaxing, Shoma supposed, but in that moment he simply found it sad, haunting and distancing somehow. He closed his eyes and reached out for Yuzuru’s lightning, smiling when it answered him immediately with a sharp rap to the edges of his consciousness.

‘He won’t last, you know. Beautiful things never do.’ Shoma squeezed his eyes more tightly shut and willed the catch out of his voice. ‘It’s going to hurt. When his wings finally carry him away from all this and I’m just…left behind.’

‘Shoma,’ Sota said, achingly low, and Shoma winced slightly, shaking his head.

‘No. It’s true. He’s going to break my heart. Not on purpose but…just because of everything he is, everything he has to be.’

‘And you’d rather have your heart broken by him than stolen by anyone else, right?’ Sota whispered. Shoma smiled raggedly, his head moving almost imperceptibly as he gave a small nod in reply.

‘I’ve never been scared of thunder, you know? It was always how quiet the world would go the morning after that would get me. The wet, heavy air and the hollow sound of everything without the constant roaring in the sky.’ He drew in a shudder of breath and blinked his eyes open once more. ‘I don’t believe in fate. And I don’t think you should ever stake your life on unseen hands or some thought that your choices don’t matter because it’s all decided in advance…but what I do know is that…from the moment I met him, something inside me remembered that sound. It said “Oh – hello…it’s you”.’ He looked over at Sota then, eyelids heavy and a hint of a crack in his smile. ‘You can’t really un-know that. Once you’ve realised it’s there. And once you’ve admitted what it means to you, you just have to accept: I love this person, and they’re going to break my stupid, useless heart into a million pieces.’

‘A million pieces that you’ll keep in a box and carry around forever, though,’ Sota pointed out gently, offering him a sad, understanding smile and lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ‘Letting them rattle around in there…making a sound like faded thunder and reminding you…it happened.’ Shoma closed his eyes, nodding sadly and shifting to rest his head back once more. ‘Maybe you could even glue them back together; make that stained glass window for him, huh?’ Shoma felt a smile ghost across his lips.

‘Even if the sky falls down. Even once the lights have been switched off and the Foundation is just dust and ghosts. He’s part of my story. He’s there, forever; ridiculous and fierce and surrounded by butterflies – scribbles and thunder and permanent ink. His name will always be next to mine. For the rest of time.’

 

Shoma couldn’t say he was enthusiastic for the party that night, but he had wanted to make an effort for Sota’s sake, aware that it meant something to his friend and not wanting to make him feel like he wasn’t glad to have him at the Foundation. After spending most of the afternoon napping and talking on Sota’s bed, they finally dragged themselves out just before sunset, stopping by Shoma’s room on the way so he could dig out something to wear that wasn’t Yuzuru’s before drifting off into the roaring haze of the Foundation’s quietening skies. It was one of those nights full of calm and possibilities, the kind of nights where nothing was happening but there was a sense that the nothing mattered; the ambers and pastel purples of the clouds seemed to wash out all the other colours, and in the cooling shadows everything was lavender and faint, timid pinks and wild oranges unfurling across the surface of the ocean out beyond the cliff. The breeze was high and stinging cold, whipping through the courtyard’s trees and biting at Shoma’s reddening cheeks; out in the distance the waves whispered and crashed, something faraway and haunting about the sound – the usual roar and fuss and fury of high sprays against jet black rock had been replaced by a gentle sway and murmur, a sense of foam and lapping water making everything feel strangely small and distant and sleepy. Ghosts danced in the hollow colour of the ebbing daylight, drifting like cloud across the dark glass of the Foundation’s towering buildings and painting the sea into vast oil-slick swirls of fading light, and Shoma shivered, not just because of the change in the air but also because of the vastness of it. He could already feel the steady build of too many powers and too much excitement that always went along with a Foundation gathering, the sound of it spilling out into the dusk-heavy air, but there was loneliness in it too somehow, a strange sense of the world being too big and everything he was being too small that he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried. As they stood in the glass lift that took them directly to the top-floor function room, Shoma placed his hand on the rail and leant his forehead against the window, watching the jagged outline of the cliff edge become smaller and more insignificant. What looked like the edge of the world up close and in the daylight was suddenly just a pencil sketch, an outline of something sinister picked out in the shadows only by the hint of white and moony blue seafoam hissing against the rocky beach.

 

The air inside the function room was thick and stuffy, and everything felt too hot and too loud to Shoma from the minute they arrived; everyone was happy and excitable and warm, and there was a constant babble of conversation and laughter that buzzed at Shoma’s skull, his skin prickling with energy and exhaustion and his collar itching. Somewhere between introductions and drinks and posing for carefully-curated photographs for various people’s personal and professional social media feeds, Shoma felt satisfied that he was free to slip away to the cooler, quieter space at the back of the room, content that Sota was happily enjoying himself at a table full of assorted Artists and most of Team Japan and that he had done his social duty in greeting almost everyone present who he knew and agreeing to stop and talk and take pictures with several people he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before whose names were lost beneath the sound of the music.

 

When Keiji found him, he was sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the coolness of the window and his knees pulled up to his chest as he played a game on his phone; he was vaguely aware of Keiji’s fond yet despairing expression, but he chose to ignore it, keeping his eyes on his phone screen as he tapped away at it determinedly. Keiji slid down the window to sit next to him, bumping his shoulder against his side kindly as he landed, and Shoma pursed his lips.

‘What are you doing hiding down here at your best friend’s welcome party, huh?’ Keiji asked lightly, watching Shoma’s game over his shoulder with mild curiosity. Shoma shrugged idly.

‘Levelling up in my game. Beating Itsuki’s high score. Hating social gatherings with a passion. The usual.’ Keiji laughed, shaking his head and digging an elbow into his side, and Shoma smirked slyly, elbowing him back with slightly more force and almost overbalancing him.

‘You little goblin,’ Keiji muttered, cuffing him round the back of the head, and Shoma finally abandoned his game, looking up at him with an unapologetic grin.

‘You started it,’ he said simply, and Keiji sighed, rolling his eyes.

‘What are we going to do with you, huh?’

‘You keep asking. You keep failing to come up with the obvious answer of “leave me alone”…so…I don’t know.’ Keiji shook his head and Shoma pulled a face at him, letting out a yawn and stretching out his legs. ‘What time is this thing supposed to go on ‘til?’

‘Who knows. It’s not like we have a curfew, and there’s no meeting or anything in the morning…why, you have somewhere you need to be?’ Shoma pursed his lips and Keiji chuckled. ‘Of course,’ he nodded, slow and knowing, but strangely not as teasing as he could’ve been. ‘You can leave whenever you want, you know – I’ll make sure Sota gets out in one piece. And, to be fair, under the circumstances? Even Waka has been pretty gentle with him.’ Shoma’s lips curved into a wry smile and he narrowed his eyes at Keiji sceptically.

‘And you really think she’s going to stick to that once the dancing starts up again?’ Keiji laughed.

‘Fair point.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll keep an eye out for him, don’t worry. He seems game for anything, honestly…and Kazuki and Mai are over there now, so I’m pretty sure he’ll be fine.’

‘Sota is always fine. It’s what he does; even when he gets dumb nonsense thrown at him, he smiles, laughs and…moves along.’ Shoma shrugged. ‘I hide at the back and he goes around being social for me. It’s what we’ve always done, I guess.’ Keiji smiled, kind and understanding, and he knocked against Shoma’s shoulder gently.

‘Well in that case you know there’s nothing to feel guilty about – he knows how you are and he hasn’t ditched you yet, I don’t think you sneaking off to find Yuzu is going to be the thing that ends the friendship if thousands of miles and your inability to reply to messages didn’t put a dent in it already.’ Shoma let out a puff of a laugh, wrinkling his nose.

‘I know. But I still feel bad. And Yuzu’s probably still in meetings.’ Keiji nodded, his expression clouding just a little.

‘It’s a shame. I think he could’ve used the chance to just…be one of us for a little while. He always loves these things – any chance he gets to be dumb and wild with everyone is always a relief for him I think. He doesn’t often get to be just…one of the crowd.’

‘Actually, he just likes any chance he gets to be around this much glitter; did you guys let Nobu loose with that stuff or something?’ Shoma enquired, aware of something glinting on his cheeks and swiping at it with a grimace to punctuate his point. Keiji laughed.

‘Worse: we put Kazuki in charge of it. And I think Mai and Kaori helped.’ Shoma nodded.

‘That explains a lot,’ he said with a grin. Keiji pulled a face.

‘You judge them, but you know if your boyfriend had been there he would’ve been even more insane with it, right?’ Shoma’s lips twisted into a wicked smirk.

‘Oh, trust me, I know.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And he probably would’ve dumped a whole tub of the stuff over my head and laughed like an idiot when it kept showing up in my hair for a month.’ Shoma sighed, pursing his lips and looking down. ‘But I don’t think I would’ve minded. It’s fun, when he’s here. He makes it as if it’s just the two of us even when it’s not. He makes me forget that I hate this stuff and…helps me actually have a good time.’ Keiji offered him a kind, understanding smile, giving his shoulder a small shove and leaning in to meet his gaze.

‘Then go find him and have a good time, Sho. I promise no one will hold it against you.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s Saturday night and…Yuzu needs his best friend. And, yeah, sure, you’re more than that to him but…you were his best friend first. Don’t forget it just because Team Japan like to tease, huh? He needs a good friend – he needs you. That’s a valid enough excuse to ditch this stuff and go to him, if you ask me.’ Shoma looked up at him for a moment, a slow, shy smile curving his lips before he looked down and gave the faintest of nods.

‘Thanks, Keiji.’

‘It’s what big brothers are for – you should know that, right?’ Keiji said, giving him another small shove. ‘Now go on, go whilst everyone’s distracted with Nobu’s terrible magic tricks.’

 

It was almost too easy to slip out from the heavy dark of the party and into the jarring silence of the lift, and Shoma felt his body sag in relief under the moonlight; he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, feeling the milky silver light wash over his too-hot cheeks, his body still full of vibration and his head muzzy-full and heavy. In the lobby downstairs he passed Evgenia and Wakaba as he headed out of the locker room with his backpack, both of them swinging their heels in their hands as they giggled and spun on their way back towards the lift, the two of them padding in unsteady lines, off in their own world and barely even noticing him as he ducked his head down and headed out into the refreshing cold of the night.

 

As he stepped out through the main entrance doors, he sucked in a sharp breath immediately; the icy air was a welcome shock to his senses, but more welcome still was the sensation of shimmering lightning dusting across his skin as it danced on the late night breeze. Yuzuru was electric in the dimness of the night, and Shoma braced himself against the hit of the feeling, smiling slightly as he closed his eyes and saw a trail of gold and feathers behind his eyelids, an invitation and a thrill that made him feel suddenly weighted-down and steady. There was something dazing about stepping out from the stuffy heat and vibration of the party into a night bathed in still, cool moonlight and the distant sound of the ocean, and Shoma took a moment to let it sink into his skin, feeling the vibration in his own energy begin to settle amidst the crisp air and murmuring light. There was something heavy inside him, a sense of purpose and knowing which he remembered from the nights he when he had come across Yuzuru crossing the courtyard on his way to the garden – like he was following a path, uncertain of what was at the end of it but somehow unable to question whether or not he wanted to follow it. He paused to rummage through his backpack, tugging out Yuzuru’s jacket and pulling it on with a grateful, contented hum; he let the sleeves fall over his hands and brought the cuffs up to his face, breathing in the scent of bergamot with a smile before pulling up the collar and setting off once more, following the sound of the faint trace of a breeze through the leaves of the courtyard’s trees.

 

The moment he saw him he felt his breath catch in his throat, stopping to watch him for a moment from across the courtyard with a soft whisper of a smile on his lips; Yuzuru was luminous and delicate in the moonlight, patterns of reflected light from the courtyard’s pools drifting over his skin in golden trails of watery lightning that made him seem like a bright and ethereal thing. He was sitting on one of the low pool walls, legs crossed and eyes closed, his head bent just a little and weary shadows lingering beneath his eyes – he still looked beautiful, terrible and worn and wanting, but glorious like he always was, a storm like he always was…Shoma’s favourite thing, like he always was. His hair was lightly ruffled, his body soft and sighing, and Shoma could feel an ache of something in him that made him want to move to him; he was drawn to him, like always, felt himself being pulled by some undeniable, invisible force, as definite as gravity but somehow stronger, its nails digging into his skin. As he crossed the courtyard he saw Yuzuru’s spine straighten just a little, felt the moment he realised he was there – it made him smile to see it, to see the quiet way his whole body seemed to change with it, his features becoming more alert even as something in his energy gentled, and as Shoma stepped out of the shadows he was reminded of his first night at the Foundation, Yuzuru appearing out of the darkness at the courtyard’s edges with careful purpose and intense curiosity, like he’d been searching for Shoma for hours and it was something wonderous to finally discover him there in the blushes of the Foundation’s dusk. And Yuzuru looked up at him the same way Shoma remembered looking up that night – shy and known and hopeful. Shoma’s ribs felt tight and a tiny, awed smile immediately ghosted across his lips.

‘Hi.’ Yuzuru’s lips were such a delicate pink it turned his answering smile into a strangely graceful thing, and he sat up a little, looking impossibly porcelain beneath the starlight.

‘Hi,’ he replied, and Shoma almost let out a laugh, sucking at his bottom lip for a beat before taking another step forwards and sticking his hands in his pockets as he drew in a steadying breath.

‘You’re Yuzuru, right?’ he joked lightly, and Yuzuru’s whole face became filled with light in a heartbeat, a gentle laugh escaping his lips as he too recognised the parallels of the moment. Shoma flashed him a rough smile. ‘Hello Yuzuru.’ Yuzuru leant back on his hands, his lips curving sweetly at one corner.

‘Hello, Shoma,’ he replied.

 

For a moment the two of them were silent, lost in the sound of the babble of the fountains and the swish of the breeze in the leaves, taking in each other’s faces and feeling the resonance of the memory as it stretched its hands out across time to pull at them both. Shoma swallowed hard, a flicker of an overwhelmed smile crossing his lips as he took in a shaky breath and brushed his fringe out of his eyes.

‘I don’t bite,’ he said with a sly smile, piercing the heaviness of the moment immediately and sticking out a hand for Yuzuru to take. It coaxed a bright, staticky laugh out of Yuzuru.

‘You remember,’ he said, and Shoma shrugged.

‘I remember every night with you.’ Yuzuru’s smile gentled at that, and he took Shoma’s outstretched hand, using Shoma’s weight to pull himself up before tugging him close to his body and looking down at him with a happy hum.

‘Hi,’ he said again, a breath of a thing, and Shoma smiled, eyes glittering quietly.

‘Hi,’ he replied, eyes closing as Yuzuru dipped in to kiss his forehead, the side of his face and then the corner of his mouth before finally moving in to press a lingering kiss to his lips, his body firm and fierce as he pulled Shoma flush against him, one hand still gripping Shoma’s and the other grazing his jawline, making him shiver. Yuzuru’s lips were soft and sticky with a fresh coat of lip balm, and it drew out a clarity in Shoma’s memory of that first night – of the pink shine of his lips as he’d smiled at him, of the hint of spring at his edges. He pushed up onto his tiptoes, bringing a hand up to Yuzuru’s neck and smiling into the kiss, and Yuzuru pulled back just a little, making him chase – for once Shoma followed without pretence of willpower, dragging his body up to meet Yuzuru’s and kissing the full stop of his chin, the slope of his jawline and then his lips, squeezing Yuzuru’s hand tightly in his own and sinking back just a little when Yuzuru pressed back against him before lowering him slowly back down to the ground. As they broke apart Shoma blinked his eyes open with a faint gasp, and he found Yuzuru smiling down at him, brushing the pad of this thumb along his cheek with a soft sigh as he studied Shoma’s face with dark, starry eyes.

‘Look at you, all sunlight and stardust, huh?’ he murmured, drawing his hand back and waving his fingers in a playful yet strangely graceful gesture, the glitter from Shoma’s skin that was now stuck to his fingertips glinting in slow-motion rainbows as it was caught by the moonlight. Shoma was suddenly aware he must have Yuzuru’s fingerprints picked out in glitter all over his cheeks and he felt a rash of a blush begin to rise; Yuzuru’s eyes found it immediately, but he didn’t pass a comment, instead bringing his hand up to his face and blowing out the glitter on the breeze, giving an idle twist of his fingers to make it dance and glow, spinning it out into tiny stars which shivered into a haze of sparks that dissolved into the darkness. Shoma breathed out a laugh and Yuzuru beamed at him, like Shoma’s smile was the miracle, the most magical thing. He dipped in to kiss Shoma again, lingering a little, his finger running along the line of Shoma’s jaw to his chin before he drew back with a gentle sigh, resting their foreheads together. ‘You know, for just a second then we were forever.’ Shoma hummed.

‘I go to forever all the time when you’re here,’ he murmured, intent and earnest, and Yuzuru smiled, lifted his head to press a kiss to the bridge of Shoma’s nose before leaning back to meet his gaze, fingers brushing faintly at his fringe.

‘The garden?’ he offered in a hushed voice, and Shoma nodded, squeezing Yuzuru’s hand and letting a smile touch his lips.

‘The garden,’ he agreed quietly.

 

Yuzuru’s face crinkled at the edges as he nodded, stepping backwards and tugging Shoma with him gently, spinning on his heel as he pulled them off towards the courtyard’s edge. Shoma fell into step with him with ease, suddenly feeling sleepy and heavy-headed again, his eyelids drooping a little as he leaned into Yuzuru’s side. Yuzuru pulled him close instinctively, smiling and kissing the top of his head as they wound their way between the pools and trees and out towards the hidden gate. ‘Yuzu,’ Shoma said, tugging just hard enough at Yuzuru’s arm to bring him to a steady stop, turning and tipping his head as he looked back at Shoma enquiringly. ‘Can I ask you something?’ Yuzuru smiled, shrugging.

‘Always.’ Shoma smiled back, bobbing his head in a vague nod and glancing down at their joined hands as he took in a deep, determined breath.

‘Why did you come and find me?’ He looked back up, meeting Yuzuru’s eyes and shivering as he saw the dark glimmer of them, the knowing, full way he looked at him no less powerful the millionth time than it had been the very first. ‘That night, my first night here…why did you look for me? Because…you did, right? You knew I would be here. You followed what you sensed until you reached me.’ Yuzuru’s smile was a faint thing – a brief flicker that was somehow magical, enchanting and complete, filling him up from within and lighting his brown eyes with warm golds. He stepped in a little, squeezing Shoma’s hand and reaching up to tuck some of his hair behind his ear, his fingertips brushing the curve of it, making Shoma shiver.

‘Do you want the truth, or do you want the answer you want to hear?’ he asked softly, studying Shoma’s features with that deep intensity that made Shoma feel so seen, so understood it ached. He drew in a shudder of breath, biting down on his lip and meeting Yuzuru’s gaze.

‘The truth. Always the truth.’ Yuzuru smiled, dragging his fingertip along the outline of Shoma’s face and giving a slow, thoughtful nod.

‘Ok,’ he said, tugging Shoma impossibly closer and kissing his temple. ‘I came to find you because sensing you for the first time – for the first time close, the first time knowing it was another person and not just some strange, background feeling I’d always been half-aware of – it was like opening a window to the first day of spring sun. It was like…“You’re here, hello, I missed you…I didn’t know how much I missed you, but now you’re here and I will forever know the difference”. It was like when one of the butterflies comes back after a long time away, or stepping outside to feel the sun on your face after hours in the cold. I came to find you because…finally someone had found me.’ Shoma gazed up at him with wide eyes, his breath stilled and his lungs tight, and Yuzuru let out a faint laugh, fingers ghosting along his jawline again as he smiled at him. ‘What, not the answer you were expecting?’ Shoma swallowed, opening his mouth to speak and finding his words all lodged at the back of his throat. He shook his head and looked down, but Yuzuru touched a finger to his chin, bringing his eyes back up immediately. ‘You thought it was because of your power, right?’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a faintly caught-out smile.

‘I don’t know. Maybe. But maybe I knew that…because it was you? There had to be more.’ Yuzuru laughed slightly, nodding his head in thought before wetting his lips.

‘So…can I ask you a question?’ Shoma nodded dumbly and Yuzuru’s eyes shone. ‘Why did you keep watching me? At morning meeting that day. Because you’d heard about me? Or something else?’ Shoma breathed out a ghost of a laugh, looking down for a beat and steadying himself before meeting Yuzuru’s eyes again.

‘No, that stuff never meant anything to me.’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘It was because you made me look at you, because you always make me look at you; you were the same as the lightning in the sky I used to watch when I was a kid…and it was the first time I’d ever known that in a person before.’

 

There was a beat of quiet as Yuzuru simply smiled at him, that wonderous look on his face again that always made Shoma feel like maybe he really was the sun; the air was heavy with quiet and moonlight, and Shoma shivered against the intensity of it as Yuzuru’s lips quirked up at one corner, something faintly mischievous beginning to glimmer in his eyes. Slowly Yuzuru leant back, lifting a hand to waggle his finger in a come-hither gesture that made Shoma let out a huff of laughter, a groan in his tone as he tipped his head back a little, leaning his body away from Yuzuru’s in perfectly-balanced odds. ‘Just because you waggle your finger at me, doesn’t mean I’m going to come to you.’ Yuzuru pursed his lips, quirking his eyebrow like he took it as a challenge, and Shoma groaned again, almost laughing as Yuzuru simply tugged him close and stepping towards him in the same moment so that suddenly they were toe-to-toe. And then Yuzuru leant down with aching slowness to capture his lips in another sweet, lingering kiss. ‘You’re the worst,’ Shoma breathed when Yuzuru pulled back, his breath hitching as Yuzuru brushed his cheek with his knuckles, moving to cup his face in one hand, an impossibly gentle smile on his lips that made Shoma want to kiss him again, everything in him straining to keep him rooted stubbornly in place even as Yuzuru leaned in, resting their foreheads together.

‘Just say you love me, Shoma,’ Yuzuru murmured, and Shoma’s eyes darkened, a sudden roguish twist to his lips as he leant back a little and met the challenge in Yuzuru’s gaze with a sly challenge of his own.

‘You love me,’ he replied, quick and devilishly saccharine, and Yuzuru let out a bright laugh, nodding slowly and leaning back in to steal a quick, chaste kiss.

‘True enough, huh,’ he smiled, fingers drifting back to Shoma’s ear, nails grazing his scalp and making him shiver again. Yuzuru’s eyes shone knowingly. ‘I guess I’ll take it.’ He kissed Shoma’s forehead then breathed out a sigh, stepping back and taking Shoma’s hand in his again. ‘Come on, before we freeze.’

 

As they stepped through the gate and down the steps, Shoma pulled on Yuzuru’s hand, stopping two steps above him so Yuzuru had to tip his head back to meet his eyes. ‘Yuzu.’ Yuzuru tilted his head slightly, and Shoma drew in a sharp breath, gazing down at him with a blush of a smile, something barely-there and faint as he licked at his lips and studied the sharp angles of Yuzuru’s face in the shadows. ‘I love you,’ he whispered, and Yuzuru’s lips curved gently up at the far corner; he hesitated a moment, looking into Shoma’s face intently before carefully moving one step up to bring their eyes level, squeezing Shoma’s hand fiercely.

‘I love you too,’ he replied, one squeeze on each word and he leant in to steal another kiss.

 

The garden’s sky was a blossom of spilt ink that night, a rich and regal blue that held a haunting kind of depth to it, a blanket of neat, perfect golden stars stretching out across its surface like miniature suns and a crescent moon half-hidden behind a whisper of dusty, translucent cloud. The faintest trace of a breeze scattered drifts of petals out into the heavy-perfumed air, looking like snow as they scattered off into the night, their delicate pink made white by the moonlight. A smattering of butterflies fluttered up from the pond’s edge to greet them, some landing about Yuzuru’s shoulders and others simply dancing around him, like they recognised the rhythm of his lightning and were somehow thrilled by it, and Yuzuru laughed and shook out his hair, scrunching up his face as he waved them off – Shoma just caught a flash of black and red at the heart of the flock, and he smiled slightly, oddly pleased that a butterfly he had a hand in conjuring had now become part of the garden’s magic. With a wave of his fingers Yuzuru made the breeze twist in the air around them, clapping his hands together once and spinning to walk backwards as he looked at the assembled butterflies with amused determination. ‘Go, go play in the petals – I’m not alone any more, I have Shoma,’ he told them, chivvying them slightly with another clap and laughing as they fluttered briefly closer to his face before swirling up to catch on to his conjured breeze, heading obediently for the trees. As Yuzuru spun back to fall into step with Shoma once more, Shoma cast him a fond yet wicked sidelong glance, shaking his head slightly and rolling his eyes.

‘You know you’re still ridiculous, right?’ he said, and Yuzuru beamed like he had been paid a profound compliment, leaning in to kiss Shoma’s temple and taking his hand once more.

‘Maybe I’m just happy you’re here; had you thought of that, huh?’ Shoma smiled slightly, looking down and worrying at his bottom lip.

‘You can’t change my mind with compliments, Thunder Boy,’ he muttered, bumping his shoulder against Yuzuru’s and looking up at him from the corner of his eye, his smile crooked and his sunlight calm. ‘Chocolate, maybe. But never compliments.’ Yuzuru let out one of his peal-of-bells laughs, and it took everything Shoma had not to stop him in his tracks and kiss him again, his cheeks aching from the effort not to let his smile grow any wider.

‘Maybe I don’t want to change your mind – maybe I like that you think I’m ridiculous and that you will always say it right to my face.’ He shrugged lightly, casting Shoma a soft smile. ‘I like that compliments are empty to you if they come too easily, and that you’re a nuisance and a mess. You’re Shoma. And that’s ridiculous too.’

‘But never as ridiculous as you,’ Shoma said and Yuzuru wrinkled his nose at him.

‘Always challenging,’ he said, eyes glittering. ‘Oh yes; you are very ridiculous.’

 

They came to rest side by side on the bridge, both of them sitting with their legs dangling over the edge and their arms resting against the beam; Shoma kicked his legs idly back and forth as he looked down into the water, whilst Yuzuru played absently with the fallen petals scattered about them, occasionally knocking fondly into Shoma’s side and smiling dopily when Shoma knocked him back. Beneath the surface of the pond, Shoma could just make out the glint and shimmer of the moonlight as it caught on the scales of the fish, who moved through the water in slow, lazy trails of orange and yellow, the colour looming up from the darkness then disappearing once more with a swish and a roll, sending shivering ripples across the glassy surface of the pond. Everything was languid and quiet, exhausted and beautiful the same way Yuzuru was, and Shoma felt his eyelids drooping as he listened to the sound of the breeze shifting through the leaves and petals all around them, enjoying the pleasant warmth of Yuzuru’s thunder as it rolled up through his bones, making everything seem somehow complete. Through his eyelashes he watched Yuzuru continue to drop petals down onto the surface one by one, fascinated the way each one seemed to send tendrils of swirling watercolour out across the water, trails of paint that stretched their fingers down into the pond’s depths and tangled into each other, faint outlines of distant scenes seeming to briefly form out of the haze before they were overtaken again by the dark. ‘Shoma, do you remember Kuala Lumpur?’ Yuzuru asked in a voice so soft it almost disappeared in the breeze, blending in with the heaviness of the air and the rustle of the leaves; Shoma blinked his eyes slowly, trying to focus a little better on the shifting colours of the surface of the pond as he took a moment to process the words, his brain slow and sleepy as he lifted his chin from his arms, tipping his head in slight confusion.

‘Kuala Lumpur?’ he frowned at last, and Yuzuru let out a breath of laughter, his eyes not leaving the pond as he dropped another petal down onto it, watching it flutter off and nodding slightly as it landed, as though he were pleased with where it fell.

‘Malaysia, Shoma. The capital – where we visited for the summit,’ he said with quiet amusement, finally glancing up to meet Shoma’s gaze, his eyes shining tiredly and his lips pink and sweet as he studied Shoma’s face. ‘Do you remember Malaysia? Waiting for the lift doors to close so we could finally be alone? The brilliant colours glaring through the bus window whilst we hid at the back fighting over space? Listening to the hum of a wild, chaotic city all around and feeling frayed and happy…and knowing it wouldn’t last?’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and he nodded slowly, resting his chin back down on his folded arms with a hum.

‘I remember.’ And he did; he remembered the brilliant greens of the trees and the purple twilights, winking yellow lights in shimmering buildings and bright blue skies. It had felt so thick and stifling in his lungs, a contrast to Singapore’s cool pinks and crisp calm but not an entirely unpleasant one – it had been a shift that had matched the shift in his understanding as he went from kissing Yuzuru to see what it felt like to kissing him because he wasn’t sure he would ever get the chance again. He remembered the intensity of it; Yuzuru gravitating towards him every time they were out of view, feeling so scared and so free all at once. He pulled at the skin of his bottom lip, looking at Yuzuru from the corner of his eye. ‘I hated it. And I wanted to stay there forever,’ he whispered, and Yuzuru smiled softly, nodding just a little and picking up another petal, dropping it down into the pond with deliberate grace.

‘I kind of felt the same way,’ he sighed, his eyes dark as he watched the ripples cross the surface of the pond, and Shoma watched too, gazing at the way the murk and darkness of the water began to swirl, turning into colours once more. Looking with more alert eyes, he finally realised the colours he had watched bleed together before were all still there, flickering just a little beneath the surface of the water – and not only that, but the colours had become more than just outlines, but in fact firm, familiar shapes. The Kuala Lumpur skyline through the bus window, his and Yuzuru’s huddled-in silhouettes against too-bright sunlight, lift doors sliding closed, a high-up hotel window, a Singapore sunset. And further back too; sitting side by side in the Foundation’s library and studying in the garden, Shoma in the courtyard on his first night. Shoma drew in a soft, surprised breath, lifting his head a little and gazing down as the memories played out, gazing at them in hushed wonder before slowly looking up into Yuzuru’s face.

‘You can conjure more than one memory at once? Without even touching the surface?’ he asked, and Yuzuru’s lips curled up at one corner, his expression somehow impish and profound at the same time – something wistful in his eyes that made Shoma shiver.

‘Maybe just when you’re around. The thing about a memory is that it can store so much more power than anything else; hope, regret, permanence, a wish or a loss or a story. Emotions. The things we forget probably never meant so much to us anyway, the things that come back if we pull at them might matter, but in a different way. But the things we remember as easily as breathing? Those things matter. The thoughts “Give me one more night in that summer, give me one more moment to hear that person’s laugh”, they hold a kind of magic no power could ever come close to – a return to a moment of happiness that restores it in new colour, gives it fresh life, becomes the one more night just by virtue of us drawing it out and letting ourselves feel again, stretching the time we give that person, pulling that midnight just a little further, a little closer to forever. Sometimes letting in the sun doesn’t mean you have to pretend to be so glad to see this new day come and try to erase the wonder of what went before – sometimes letting in the sun is as simple as bringing a memory out into the light again after a long time shutting it away.’ He blinked, slow and heavy – and it should have seemed sad, the weight of feeling in his eyes, but somehow Shoma couldn’t bring himself to feel it, could only feel a kind of held-breath enchantment as he let the words sink in. Yuzuru looked over at him with exhausted hope, wetting his lips just slightly. ‘Do you know what I mean?’ Shoma swallowed, giving the barest hint of a nod.

‘I think so,’ he replied in a whisper. ‘I’ve always known what you’ve meant, Yuzuru.’ He turned his eyes back to the pond, watching their story play out in wet ripples of memory for just a beat, his lips curving up into a curious half-smile. ‘Even when I didn’t know what you meant, or I pretended because I liked how confused it made you…even when I said I didn’t because I wanted to pretend I could walk away or when I didn’t work it out until three days after you said it. I always knew. I always will…or at least…I always will, once I work it out.’

 

Sunday broke over the Foundation the way it always did; sleepily and slowly, and even in the safety of the garden it was possible to feel the lazy nostalgia and the ache of an ending that permeated the air, dragging the two of them from their sleep no matter how many times Shoma pulled the blanket up over their heads and told Yuzuru it was too early. It was almost afternoon, but as they made their way up to run the gauntlet of walking through the courtyard together in yesterday’s clothes it was a relief to find the Foundation sunlit and subdued, a sense of morning-after heaviness covering every surface and the traces of the night before still lingering at the edges of the air, clinging to it like invisible cobwebs. No one was around as he and Yuzuru headed up to their rooms, or at least, no one awake – over by one of the pools in the courtyard, Evgenia was curled up, clutching her shoes to her chest and resting her head in Jason’s lap, Wakaba lying over the top of her, the three of them sleeping soundly as the glitter glinted off their edges in the late morning sun, and in the entryway to the residential block half of Team France were piled on top of one another, spilling over seats and poured dramatically across the floor, limbs tangled and snores soft. Yuzuru and Shoma exchanged amused glances and picked their way across them to the lifts in silence.

 

They went to Yuzuru’s room first, and Shoma dozed on his bed whilst he showered and changed, complaining when he was woken up and told to go find his own clothes for once. They stopped at his room next, and by the time Shoma had finished getting ready, Yuzuru was sitting cross-legged in the window ledge, tapping away on his phone with quick fingers; he looked up as Shoma emerged in a cloud of steam, smiling at him impishly.

‘Team Japan are dragging themselves out for a hungover picnic,’ he announced. ‘It’ll probably be the last one before the weather really changes…and there’s rumours Nobu hasn’t stopped groaning since they first woke him up…and pulled him out from under Brian’s desk about two minutes before Brian could catch him.’ Shoma let out a happy snort of a laugh, towelling his hair dry vigorously and flopping down onto his bed with a humph.

‘And they say I’m chaotic.’ Yuzuru smiled and Shoma smiled back, closing his eyes and folding his hands on his stomach as he let out a sigh. ‘Is Sota alive?’ he asked, and Yuzuru let out a laugh, hopping down from the window ledge and coming to join Shoma on the bed, throwing himself down with enough force to make Shoma’s head bounce a little against the mattress.

‘Yes, and even in one piece apparently. And sensible enough not to let Kana make him any cocktails.’ He tapped at his phone for a couple of seconds before looking back at Shoma with a bright grin. ‘He did wake up with Kazuki asleep on his bedroom floor, though, so…I think he’s probably got the measure of Team Japan already.’ He paused, poking at Shoma’s ribs. ‘They say he’s going to the picnic…you want to join them or shall I tell them you’ll be a no-show?’ Shoma opened one eye, looking up at Yuzuru through the haze of sunlight that fell through the window. His features were cast in shadow, but he could still see something oddly expectant in his eyes.

‘Will you be there?’ he asked softly, and Yuzuru pursed his lips, tapping his fingers against them in a playful show of consideration.

‘I guess that depends; see, there’s this guy I like…’ he sing-songed, and Shoma let out a soft, silly laugh, scrunching up his face and reaching up to give Yuzuru a half-hearted shove. ‘If you want to stay here I don’t mind. I need to study but…I can do that wherever. I just want to spend the day with you.’ Shoma’s smile gentled, and he looked down shyly, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

‘Then sure, let’s go. You can study and I can pretend to be helping you, and that way I don’t get accused of being anti-social without having to actually…you know…be social in any meaningful way.’ Yuzuru laughed and Shoma shot him a wry smile. ‘You’re basically just a glorified bodyguard, you know that?’ Yuzuru nodded slowly, eyes glittering with mischief.

‘You kiss all your bodyguards?’ he enquired, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘I said “glorified”, Hanyu – pay attention or I might have to demote you.’

‘And replace me with who? Keiji? His hot chocolate isn’t half as good as mine, you know. And also? I don’t think he’d bring you caramel brownies.’ Shoma pushed himself up on his elbows at that, looking at Yuzuru intently.

‘When did you-’

‘When you were in the shower. I know a guy who does the Sunday shift at the café, he came to meet me in the courtyard with them on his break.’ Shoma pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at Yuzuru playfully.

‘You know, if you’d led with the thing about the brownies, you could’ve won me over a lot sooner, right?’ Yuzuru smiled, nodding slowly and leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

‘I know,’ he said, pulling back and regarding Shoma with bright, sparkling eyes. ‘But sometimes it’s so much more fun to make you pout.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper bag from the Constellation Café, handing it over to Shoma with a scrunch of his nose. ‘Now eat them quick, Sho, because Team Japan are hungry when they’re hungover, and I know for a fact I got the last bag of their favourite morning-after treats.’

 

When they finally went to join Team Japan, they found them out on the playing field, all of them sprawling lazily across a selection of blankets spread over on the sun-drenched grass close to the edge of the cliff; they were contentedly subdued, some people lying with their heads in others’ laps and some sitting cross-legged with their heads bent in close as they shared hushed conversations or messed around on their phones. Everyone’s energy felt tired and unravelled, and Shoma found something comforting in the rough hum of it as it curled out into the pleasantly-warm air; there was almost no one else around, an easy stillness blanketing the whole of the Foundation, and it somehow made the cliff’s jagged edge feel even more like it could be the last piece of solid ground before the ocean opened out and dropped off the edge of the world, pouring off into the brilliant blue of the sky – Shoma found himself staring out at it, watching the line of the horizon and the sway of the birds over the waves and wondering if maybe they weren’t on solid ground at all, if there was a chance the Foundation really had drifted up and away over night, when everyone was distracted and dancing and he and Yuzuru had been half-drowned in memories down in the belly of the cliff. Yuzuru took his hand, lifting it to his lips and kissing the back of it, and Shoma looked up at him with a rough-edged smile, leaning into his side with a tired, contented sigh.

 

‘Well if it isn’t the hermit and his boyfriend,’ Kanako declared as she saw them, waving off the chorus of shushes she received from the wincing group around her and ignoring Mao as she stretched up from her place in her lap to attempt to clamp a hand over her mouth. Daisuke groaned and put his hands over his ears.

‘Wait,’ Yuzuru said as he flung himself down opposite Keiji and Kazuki. ‘Am I the hermit or am I the boyfriend?’ Shoma smirked, sitting down at Yuzuru’s side and smiling at Sota as he sat up and bumped into his shoulder by way of a greeting.

‘You like people too much to be the hermit,’ Kanako told Yuzuru, scowling at him playfully as he reached for the plate of fruit from the middle of the blanket, pulling it away from him.

‘You hear that, Yuzu? You’ve been reduced to Shoma’s plus-one,’ Nobu said through a yawn, and Yuzuru shot him a dry look, pursing his lips and making another grab for the fruit, throwing a grape at Nobu’s face and breaking into a soft laugh when he caught it in his mouth.

‘Where did you disappear to last night, Shoma? We came to find you for karaoke and you were gone,’ Kazuki put in, and Kanako snorted.

‘Like we even need to ask,’ she said, sticking her tongue out at Yuzuru, who offered her a bratty smile in retort, unable to speak around a mouthful of food. ‘You keep stealing my Shoma from me, Yuzu; I feel like I hardly see him anymore.’ Shoma rolled his eyes.

‘You just miss having someone you can laugh at all the time,’ he muttered, and Kanako put a hand to her chest in mock-outrage.

‘Shoma, you have seen these clowns we all call friends, right? Of course I love you for more than your comedic value, huh – there is too much comedy to choose from around here.’

‘I want to be offended, but I’m too tired,’ Wakaba groaned, lifting her head up to squint over at Shoma. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this? But you were so right: sneaking out early was definitely the way to go.’

‘Wow, Kana, what did you put in those cocktails of yours?’ Yuzuru laughed, and Kanako offered him an impish smile, shrugging lightly.

‘Oh, you know…way too much of way too much.’

‘Yeah, and then she suggested we come and sit outside in direct sunlight,’ Satoko offered dryly; she looked far less worse for wear than the others, but Shoma caught a little raggedness at her edges which wasn’t usually there and it made him smile slightly.

‘Hey, people, here’s a great idea for the plan going forward: how about we all stop saying…words…’ Daisuke grumbled without lifting his head from his folded arms, and Keiji smirked.

‘And finally Team Japan knows how Shoma feels every day.’

‘Hungover?’ Wakaba frowned.

‘No: done with everyone’s nonsense,’ Keiji corrected with a roll of his eyes, and Shoma grinned at him, bumping his fist approvingly.

 

It was good to spend time in the company of people who were content to do nothing together; Kaori and Mai were happily making a collage of flowers out of paper napkins, Wakaba and Kazuki were dozing in the afternoon sun, Satoko and Keiji pulled out heavy university textbooks from their backpacks to study and Nobu had taken to pestering Yuzuru as he tried to concentrate on something in one of his many notebooks – there were no demands, and Shoma was free to mess around on his phone and chat idly with Sota, feeling content and quiet, the calm sinking into his skin as the group drifted in and out, occasionally all stopping to laugh when Kazuki began to talk in his sleep or Yuzuru successfully landed a splat of a strawberry to Nobu’s face. The afternoon ebbed on in steady heat, and as the group drifted in and out around him, Shoma allowed himself to laze at Yuzuru’s side, half-listening to him mutter under his breath as he read and jotted down scratchy, indecipherable notes and half-drifting off inside his own head, squinting up at the ridiculously bright sky and picking out patterns in the picture-perfect puffballs of cloud which raked through the brilliant blue as it sprawled out into the distance. People came and went around him, and he made soft, sleepy sounds of goodbye as each person drifted off, rolling onto his stomach to watch the ocean and letting his eyelids droop as the afternoon heat began to gentle and cool, enjoying the way the sky’s colours changed from blue to burnt-edged grey, a peak of peach and orange lingering at the edge of the skyline, making everything seem translucent and washed-out, a faded kind of magic in the heaviness of the air and the scent of grass and sea spray making him feel a weight of contented exhaustion. He squinted out at the ocean; from where he was lying it was framed by the spiky grass at the edge of the cliff, the green fronds whispering back and forth against the backdrop of dark, swirling grey-blue. He could taste how heavy the salt was in the air, stinging at his cheeks and making his skin feel scrubbed and sensitive. There was a roar of a breeze and the sound of tired waves all around, punctuated by the cries of the seabirds overhead as they headed in from the line of the horizon to dance in neat rows about the tops of the Foundation’s buildings. He and Yuzuru were the only ones left as day finally began to sigh its way out, the light becoming ever so slightly greyscale and the scent of moss and eucalyptus cloaking everything in thick, musky shadows. Shoma shivered and Yuzuru glanced up from his notes for a moment, smiling slightly before reaching into his backpack and pulling out the soft pink blanket, handing it over to Shoma wordlessly before moving to sprawl out beside him, straining for a second to peer down at the rumble of the beach before letting out a small hum and relaxing back, turning his eyes to his notes once more and squinting at them with determination despite the fading light. Shoma wrapped the blanket around him with a soft smile, brushing it against his cheek and enjoying the morning-thick scent of it as he rolled over onto his back again. He looked at the little white paint splashes of the birds as they drifted through the now-clear skies and headed off for the night, wondering what he and Yuzuru must look like to them; two little splashes of gold and shadow against a neat square of chequered blankets, the last specks of humanity, half-lost against the backdrop off the rocky, ragged outline of the universe’s edge. It was a strange, haunting feeling; to feel so small and yet still so important at the same time, some helpless little miracle of chemicals and matter, two monuments to chance and hope and magic, but also just two more dots of colour, tiny particles of light in a world of a million more. Shoma pulled the blanket around him more tightly like it could keep the thought away. He didn’t like the possibility that his story was just some uselessly tiny dot on the map; it meant everything to him, he had fought so hard to be in this place, with this other tiny dot, this other speck of colour, his lightning miracle. Shoma felt oddly vulnerable in that moment, curiously insignificant and profoundly breakable in contrast with the relentless crash of waves on the rocks below and the overwhelming vastness of the cooling skies.

 

Shoma was so absorbed in the roll and fury of the sea air that it actually made him jump a little when Yuzuru let out a small, frustrated sound from the back of his throat, huffing and briefly throwing down his pen to rest his head against his notebook. There was a beat of quiet, Yuzuru drawing in a slow, heavy breath, and Shoma turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow and stretching out to graze gentle fingers along Yuzuru’s cheek, dusting sunlight and healing across his skin; there was something slow and wonderous about the way his smile filtered in to his features, his colours growing a little brighter beneath the haze of gold and sunbeams at Shoma’s fingertip. Yuzuru turned his head, resting it on his folded arms and looking up at Shoma lazily, his dark eyes dancing in the low, shifting light and washes of lavender painting his features in dusk; he didn’t look like a watercolour, he looked like the ocean itself, painted by the sunset the same way the glassy-deep waters beyond the cliff were, his lightning glimmering like the white peaks of the waves.

‘What’s wrong?’ Shoma asked softly, edging just a little closer to brush at the soft sweep of Yuzuru’s fringe. Yuzuru’s eyes flickered closed, his lips twisting up into a heavy smile as his whole body hummed with sunlight for a moment, and Shoma felt a smile tugging at his own lips, a powerful pull of gravity swelling in the pit of his stomach. It was as if the two of them had grown roots, the earth and soil taking hold around them; they had become a part of the vastness, stretching out and tumbling into something infinite, unshiftable. ‘Yuzu,’ Shoma murmured, and Yuzuru opened his eyes to look at him blearily, lifting one shoulder in a tired shrug, his eyelids heavy and his smile quiet.

‘I guess I just don’t know what I’m doing with this stuff,’ he sighed, wrinkling his nose slightly. ‘I’m not even sure what I’m trying to prove anymore…and I don’t know if I want to prove it.’ Shoma frowned, rolling over so he was lying pressed close to Yuzuru’s side, his head still tipped up to look into Yuzuru’s pastel-edged face.

‘What are you working on?’ he asked softly, curling one arm under him to pillow his head and reaching out with his other hand to trace the curve of Yuzuru’s shoulder, trailing his finger down along the sleek line of his back and watching with a gentle twist of a smile when he caught the slight shiver it sent through Yuzuru’s body.

‘Dead ends mostly,’ Yuzuru sighed, lifting his head and pulling a face. ‘Times, dates, connections…reasons why it is the ministry might suddenly be so interested in what your power can or can’t do.’ Shoma’s eyebrows raised slightly in a hint of enquiry, and Yuzuru’s smile turned slightly lopsided as he flopped back down and let out a heavy sigh. ‘I was so mad at the ministry yesterday for trying to mess you around that I didn’t really stop to think why it would be that anyone would be passing information about your power to them. And if it’s true that it started with Raf…’ He shook his head slightly, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at the ocean as if he might be able to pick the answers out from the line of the horizon.

‘You really think he did it?’ Shoma asked.

‘Brian says so, and he wouldn’t lie,’ Yuzuru whispered. ‘But whether he did or not…someone certainly talked to them, because they were full of questions.’ He lips quirked up a little, and he offered Shoma an almost impish smile, face crinkling for a moment. ‘Tracy did her “Don’t come for one of my kids” routine and they backed off pretty fast…and there’s a chance I’d already given them an earful so…I don’t think you need to worry, any suspicions they have they won’t be pressing on any time soon, and we even managed to play down your Healer powers by the end.’ Shoma smiled slightly, giving a small bob of his head.

‘Thank you,’ he said softly, and Yuzuru shrugged.

‘It’s none of their business what your power can do, Sho. And it’s none of Raf’s business either.’ He pursed his lips, something troubled colouring his expression for a moment. ‘But it’s strange, though. I mean…it’s not the first time he cared about you more than people expected.’

‘What do you mean?’ Shoma frowned, and Yuzuru pulled a face.

‘When they decided they were going to invite you here, Raf threw a fit when Brian wouldn’t let him be your mentor; no one understood why, though, because he hardly ever works with Healers…and he had already been assigned Nathan at that point.’

‘Seriously?’ Yuzuru nodded.

‘It was bad. Brian pointed out all the ways Mihoko was better suited, but Raf wouldn’t listen. He said because he’d heard you were so powerful you should be in his group – he thought he had read in your notes somewhere that your power was more force than direction and that that meant you fell more in his area of expertise.’ Yuzuru pulled a comical face of disapproval, and Shoma huffed out a small, confused little laugh. ‘But the weird part? That wasn’t in yours notes at all, not anywhere – there was some speculation you found it hard to control your power, but none of the kind of details he was coming out with.’ Shoma’s frown deepened, and he lifted his head to better meet Yuzuru’s gaze.

‘But…where would he have got that stuff from? No one knows anything about my power, not really – only you.’ Yuzuru glanced away, his expression clouding over.

‘Me…and the Alliance.’

 

There was a beat of uneasy silence, both of them gazing out towards the line of the horizon with dark eyes, Shoma biting at the inside of his cheek as he tried to unpick it.

‘But you don’t think-’

‘Raf might betray Brian, but I don’t think he’d go against the whole Foundation – especially not whilst Nathan is here,’ Yuzuru said firmly, although Shoma could feel a trace of doubt in him all the same. ‘He has close ties with the US ministry, though…and they would happily do as they please when it comes to switching allegiances; it’s not about the greater good with them, it’s about who can give them what. The Alliance have always been linked to them too, through money and geography…and whilst Raf might not deal with them directly, there is a chance information could get passed around if he talked to the wrong people.’ Shoma shook his head slightly.

‘But even if they were passing information around, why about me? They have readings and data on you too, and just as much reason to want to know about your side of their Heaven’s Scales theory as mine. Surely it would be easier to find out about you anyway – everyone talks about your powers, asks questions they shouldn’t, argues over what to do with them. It’s just as dumb, the way they talk about you, but…it’s still more normal than suddenly talking about some Healer who can’t even control his power properly.’ Yuzuru sighed, reaching out to tuck some of Shoma’s hair into place and offering him a fond smile.

‘Don’t talk about yourself so dismissively, huh?’ he said, and Shoma pulled a face.

‘Why not? It’s true. I’m not like you or Nathan; I don’t have this way with my power that makes people sit up and take notice, the only reason people pay attention is because they can’t be sure what my power is even going to do.’

‘Shoma.’ Yuzuru’s eyes were intense and dark, and he shook his head just slightly, a humourless laugh dragging out from his lips. ‘How can you not see the force in yourself? How can you not realise how captivating that is?’ He stretched across to press a kiss to Shoma’s forehead, staying close and meeting his eyes determinedly. ‘You don’t need to sense to know there is something more in you, Shoma. Stop pretending you’re less than me just because you’re different; we’re made of the same stuff, carved out of the same granite – maybe we’ve been broken by different waves, but we are still equals, and you should never doubt how very important you are, not just to me, but to the whole equation, the whole universe…everyone who you have touched. You are a piece of this puzzle, Shoma; a unique and important piece, we just…don’t know how it fits yet, that’s all.’ Shoma swallowed, glancing down, but Yuzuru reached out to touch a finger to his chin, bringing his gaze back up to him for a beat before he leant in to steal an earnest kiss. It stung a little at Shoma’s breeze-bitten lips, the taste of spring a sharp, fierce thing and Yuzuru’s lightning full of force. He blinked his eyes back open and met Yuzuru’s gaze again immediately.

‘But still, Yuzu…even if you believe that, even if people who know me could believe that…that still doesn’t explain why it’s always me these total strangers end up fixed on. It’s me whose door they’ve come to, whose family they hounded to try and get me to join them. I was the one they followed closely. And now I’m the one they’re pressuring to get information about. And it doesn’t make sense; you’re the PR, the prestigious catch, I’m the one who hangs around you at press conferences. Dragging me over to their side wouldn’t mean even half as much to the public as it would if they grabbed you – they’re smart, they must know that.’

 

Yuzuru hummed softly, his fingers ghosting across Shoma’s cheek before he sighed and turned his eyes back to the horizon, resting his head down tiredly.

‘Maybe this isn’t about turning me, though, or getting me on their side. They decided against that a long time ago, I think.’

‘Because you came to the Foundation so young?’ Yuzuru shook his head slightly.

‘Before that. I think they made their minds up about me…back when they first started looking for you.’ He cast Shoma a sad half-smile. ‘Shoma, you saw those files; they stopped trying to figure out ways to turn me by the time I was, what, eleven? Twelve? All their notes on me changed focus. And they stopped writing to my mother asking for tests. But you? They focused on twice as hard. Even after you came here. With me? The first moment they had me alone they tried to destroy me. But they had you alone in Japan when you went home…and all they did was ask questions. No threats. No attacks. No clawing at your power. Just more offers, more hopes you’d come to them.’

‘So…what? That just means they think I’m the soft touch, probably because I haven’t been here so long, or because my power’s so messy.’ Yuzuru frowned, shaking his head and turning down to his notes, running his finger over some of the things he had written in the margin.

‘Shoma, their whole theory centres on the idea that we’re two halves of something, right?’ Shoma nodded slightly and Yuzuru nodded back. ‘So…why? Why put the safeguard of all the magic in the world into two parts – what’s the purpose?’

‘To make sure one can always stop the other?’ Shoma guessed. ‘To make sure it isn’t too much for one person to take?’ Yuzuru bobbed his head slightly.

‘Maybe something like that,’ he whispered. ‘But maybe also because there are two different actions which need to be made.’

‘Huh?’

‘The more I look at the way their research went, the more it makes sense to me, Shoma, the more obvious it gets that…they’re interested in power, who has the most available to them. And they don’t want me.’ Shoma scrunched his face up in confusion.

‘So? Doesn’t that just makes them dumb?’ Yuzuru laughed softly.

‘I wish,’ he sighed, shaking his head. ‘Shoma, their notes shift focus onto you because…you are the power in our equation; raw, total, full and…maybe sometimes undirected. You’re pure power, and unlike me? It’s either off or it’s on.’

‘I’m not getting why that’s so important; surely me being able to shut my power down would make me less interesting to them? And…even if my power is the raw one, that doesn’t mean your power isn’t important…I mean…it’s still there, right? It still can’t be classified. It still works with mine and not against it.’ Yuzuru smiled.

‘Of course it works with mine – you’re a switch but…I’m a vessel, right?’ Shoma’s brows drew together for a beat before slowly, steadily, something in Yuzuru’s words sank in.

‘The heart and the compass,’ he whispered, heavy and groaning. Yuzuru nodded.

‘The stars from two opposite perspective of the universe,’ he added. ‘Opposites, with different parts to play.’

‘So…I’m the power source, and you’re what decides how to use it?’ Yuzuru twisted his lips in thought.

‘Something along those lines, maybe. I mean…I was born first, right? So…I had to be able to take on more power on top of my own; I had to be built to know how to use it well, to not crack under the extra weight.’

‘Your power won’t shut down because it has to always be ready to handle mine…because my power doesn’t always know where to go, and that could go wrong really quickly if-’

‘If someone were to turn you.’ Shoma shivered, looking out over the darkness of the ocean and feeling his stomach churn painfully.

‘That’s it, isn’t it – why they’re so bothered about me. You’re the moral compass; there’s no shifting you. Even when the Snatchers reached inside you, there was never a chance of your power bending…because your power is a direct strike. A calculation. A tool that knows what its purpose is.’ He pursed his lips and closed his eyes with a wince. ‘But my power’s where the action comes from; it’s the switch that sets the whole thing off.’ Yuzuru reached out to brush his fingers along Shoma’s cheek. ‘I’m the weak link in the chain.’

‘Shoma, no,’ Yuzuru whispered. ‘You are everything good.’ He leant in to press a kiss to his temple, resting his head against his shoulder. ‘They would never turn you without force, Sho; it’s not in your heart to see the world the way they do.’ He let out a soft sigh. ‘They want me gone so your power has no help – as long as I’m around, it will always seek me out. They know who you are well enough to realise that…a power like yours? It will always fight against what tricks they play, it will always gravitate to the vessel it was designed for. Their only option is to destroy me; it would leave the latch broken and your power with nowhere to go…best case for them, they could find you and get inside…worst case, your power just shuts off so that no one can have it anyway, and that’s one less power in the world that isn’t theirs, so they still win just the same.’

‘Maybe that’s why my power shuts down to begin with,’ Shoma whispered. ‘A failsafe within a failsafe – in case a time comes when I’m the last one standing and there’s no safe direction for it to go.’ Yuzuru hummed and Shoma rested his head against him with a sigh. ‘Yuzu, if this is true…that means they’ll just keep trying to come for you.’

‘I know,’ Yuzuru breathed out, his voice an ache, and Shoma squeezed his eyes shut.

‘Yuzu-’

‘Shoma, what’s done is done already; we don’t have a solution yet, but the Alliance do.’ Yuzuru shrugged, heavy and sad, brushing Shoma’s fringe from his eyes gently. ‘Their plan is decided and we don’t have one at all; we’re scrambling to catch up to a theory they’ve poured over for years, and they have nothing left to lose by striking now. We have to agree that, if the worst happens, and they try something…we can’t let them get to you.’

‘But Yuzu-’

‘Shoma, I’m not saying I’m giving up, ok? I’m just saying…we need to be prepared for the fact they are miles ahead of us…and that, if it comes to it? The only thing we can do is accept that breaking the failsafe would at least stop them.’ Shoma flinched.

‘You mean let them get you.’

‘If they get me then they get what they want – not everything they want, but certainly a start. It would at least buy time – time for you to find a new solution, and to find ways to protect your power from them, even if that means-’

‘Shutting my power off completely.’ Shoma pulled a face, refusing to meet Yuzuru’s eyes. ‘I wouldn’t have to find a way to do that, Yuzu. If something happened to you…’

 

Shoma’s whole body ached, a terrible, dredged-up feeling drawing out from inside him. He closed his eyes and tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t leave him alone; he felt like he was being hurled against rocks. Yuzuru lifted his head and pressed a kiss to Shoma’s shoulder, and Shoma felt his lightning unwind over him like a shield, laced with a dusting of healing – he swallowed down the lump in his throat and let out a breath. ‘I hate you sometimes,’ he said in a rough whisper, his voice so low he almost hoped the words might have disappeared beneath the sound of the waves, but he could tell from the way Yuzuru kissed his face that he had been heard, and he winced slightly against the contact. ‘I hate that you found me and I hate that I love you. And I hate that I don’t hate any of it, that I could never hate any of it. I hate that you’re right. And I hate that…I hate that, just because I know you’re right, that doesn’t make it hurt any less.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Yuzuru traced the curve of his ear with a fingertip. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’ Shoma turned and looked up at him, meeting his gaze with sad, shining eyes.

‘Don’t be. Don’t you dare. Don’t be sorry for a second of it – I’m not.’ He stretched up to capture Yuzuru’s lips with a slow, fierce kiss, and his whole body felt full and thrumming as Yuzuru’s warmth pressed against his side with steady determination. ‘It’s too late to say goodnight to you,’ he murmured against Yuzuru’s skin, and Yuzuru drew back, meeting his gaze with a ghost of a smile and dragging his thumb with aching tenderness across Shoma’s bottom lip.

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘Not too late – never too late.’ Shoma drew in a shudder of breath and Yuzuru leant in to kiss his forehead, the side of his face, the corner of his mouth. ‘It’s too early; it will always be too early for us to say goodnight.’

‘If we stay up all night we never have to,’ Shoma whispered, and Yuzuru smiled gently, giving him a slow nod and leaning in for another kiss that Shoma drew towards with his whole body, tasting cherry blossom and stars and feeling a hundred memories drag at the two of them, every one carrying them seamlessly back to this moment.

 

When they drew apart they stared at each other for a heartbeat; Shoma saw the glassy sheen in Yuzuru’s eyes and it made something inside his chest grow tight, the prickle of tears at the back of his own eyes threatening to break – he drew in a shaky breath and shook his head slowly, turning his gaze quickly away. He sighed and tried to dispel the electricity from his skin, pushing the static of Yuzuru’s lightning out of his system; he could still feel the low pull of his thunder, the tremor and roll, the aching hope and stubborn defiance, and he didn’t want to deny that much. He couldn’t shut Yuzuru out; he didn’t want to, he wanted to remember ever last second of his storms, he wanted them to have their space carved out in his ribcage forever. Yuzuru stretched up to press a kiss to the side of his face again, and Shoma shot him a sidelong glance, offering him a wry smile and shaking his head slightly. ‘This is why I mostly tune you out when you start with your theories,’ he said, his voice scratchy and cracked as he rolled his eyes and tried to loosen the bands around his chest. He sniffed and looked up at the sky with a huff of breath. ‘God, Yuzu; you could’ve at least bought me fries or something first before making me cry.’ Yuzuru let out a wet laugh, rolling his eyes and leaning in for another quick forehead kiss.

‘It’s always food with you,’ he said, his lips curving with painful sweetness against Shoma’s skin. He drew back and offered him a crinkly-eyed smile, wry and sad but somehow steadier than before. ‘Besides, there’s not enough fries in the world.’ Shoma laughed, grimacing slightly and giving Yuzuru an affectionate shove, his lips twisting into a smirk as he fell backwards with a low thud.

‘Shut up, Drama Queen.’ Yuzuru smiled at him.

‘Does that come with a crown? Because I’m only insulted if there isn’t a crown.’ Shoma tried to suppress his laugh, rolling his eyes in a show of despair before letting out a sigh.

‘Drama Magnet, then,’ he muttered dryly.

‘Spoilsport,’ Yuzuru complained, sticking his tongue out at him, and Shoma simply smiled, resting his chin on his arms with a shake of his head.

 

For a few moments they were quiet, Yuzuru gazing off at the horizon and Shoma resting his heavy head on his arms; there was something oddly peaceful about having the words spoken – it didn’t solve anything, but maybe Shoma had finally come to terms with the fact that not everything in life could be solved, maybe he was finally starting to realise that there would always be loose ends and fragments of things, that some stories started in the middle and never really ended, and others ended far too soon, before anyone could really untangle the threads of them. Some poems didn’t rhyme properly, but some nights could last for all of time.

 

Shoma’s eyelids were drooping, and he was almost on the brink of sleep when suddenly something peeking out from under Yuzuru’s papers caught his eye, and he lifted his head slowly, pushing himself upright and stretching across to tug it free. The notebook was a little larger than most of Yuzuru’s others, the cover dark blue with a scattering of stars surrounding a sun and a crescent moon picked out in gold across it; Shoma recognised it immediately. ‘Your Colour Theory book?’ he asked with a soft frown, running his fingers over the design for a moment before turning the notebook over in his hands and leafing through the pages with cautious fingers. ‘You only get this out when you think you might be onto something about the Grey Zones.’ He looked up at Yuzuru curiously. ‘Did you find something?’ he asked, turning over to the page Yuzuru had left bookmarked and finding a sheaf of new notes and bullet points in fresh, crisp black ink. ‘This is about the stained glass thing,’ he murmured, and Yuzuru cast him a soft smile, moving to sit up beside him.

‘After what you said I dug out my notes from Tracy’s lecture,’ he said, resting his head on Shoma’s shoulder as Shoma idly picked up his discarded pen and began to draw across the white space left at the bottom of the page. ‘You were right, you know – to make that connection. There is something similar in the ideas; Tracy was talking about soaking the ground of a Grey Zone in so much memory and emotion that it might somehow start to remember its past…and that is kind of like the idea of the light through the window, of how it bathes the ground in new warmth and new colours.’ Shoma nodded slightly, tilting his head as he finished his drawing, regarding it for a beat before beginning to shade in dark lines around it, boxing it in to give the impression of a stained glass window at the heart of the page. ‘I’m not really sure how it applies to power, but I think there’s something about the idea of light and shadow and the fabric of magic blending together that I find kind of hopeful…but I would need to turn the metaphor into something more concrete to really call it a theory, never mind an actual solution.’ Shoma’s lips curved into a faint, thoughtful smile as he set about shading in the shadow cast from his drawn window along the edge of the paper.

‘It would be kind of like conjuring a memory on the surface of the pond, I guess,’ he said softly, tongue poking out as he concentrated on his sketch. Yuzuru glanced at him and he shrugged, beginning to draw a quiet-faced man beneath the window, his arms outstretched as though he was about to begin to talk and a scattering of butterflies around his head. ‘To draw the memories out in the water, you have to blend different categories of power, right?’ He glanced up into Yuzuru’s face. ‘So that’s the same as the stained glass window too: the light falls through the defined lines of what power should be, but the effect is a blur, the raw ingredients of magic working together to form a new power all of its own. The end result is different from the structure that created it.’ A slow smile spread across Yuzuru’s features, and Shoma looked up at him with a sleepy laugh. ‘What?’ he asked, and Yuzuru shook his head slightly, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

‘Nothing, just…’ He licked his lips, glancing down almost shyly. ‘It never stops taking me by surprise; how clearly you hear me. It never loses its magic to me…how good it is to be heard. To be heard by someone like you.’ Yuzuru’s lips twitched slightly, his expression a whisper of feeling and his dark eyes glittering with the reflection of the moonlight. ‘You know…I’m glad it was you.’

‘Huh?’

‘I never really thought there was another person out there, I didn’t know what I felt was…was a someone. But from the moment I realised, from the moment I knew you…I was glad that, if it had to be anyone, it was you.’ He lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug, reaching out to ghost his fingers along Shoma’s jawline, and Shoma drew in a shudder of breath as rivers of lightning zigzagged through his body. ‘No one else could carry the weight of being the sun with such depth and such dignity, Shoma. No one else’s heart could even try to know how to be boundless the way you are.’ He leant in and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to Shoma’s lips, cupping his face with his hand as he drew back and met his eyes. ‘Don’t lose it. Even when it hurts, you have to still let your heart be the honest thing it is, and you have to still believe in things; magic creates magic…and your sunlight will bring you sunlight back in time, even if it seems impossible.’

 

For a moment Shoma simply gazed at him, his lips slightly parted and a faint, anguished crease forming in the middle of his forehead; Yuzuru’s fingers brushed lightly against his cheek again, and he drew in a shiver of breath, straightening just slightly as he dragged the air in, feeling the cold of it hit the back of his throat as his eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat. He turned his head, looking out to sea for a moment. Everything around them was swathed in inky blues and moonlight, the night’s sky hanging above them like gossamer, something drifting and unreal about the way it seemed to float down towards the ocean, breaths of cloud  gathering in swathes at the horizon line and making the waves look as though they were tumbling off the edge and straight into the stars. Shoma barely took it in, hesitating for only a second to feel the sting of salt-heavy air against his skin and listen to the sound of the water hitting the cliff’s rocks before he turned back into Yuzuru’s touch, gazing up into his face. His features were a mess of midnight, his energy frayed but content, and there was something in the way he touched Shoma that made him feel sunburnt and longing. Some curious fight or flight response was triggered in his gut; a dim and distant part of him begging him to slip free and escape into the artificial light of the Foundation’s high, shimmering buildings, shaking off the thick layer of magic clinging to his skin by pressing against the comforting mundanity of stainless steel and lift music. But the look in Yuzuru’s eyes saw straight through him – saw the person he was with too much clarity for him to pretend running away would work. Yuzuru’s knuckles dragged along his cheek again, grazing his jawline for a moment before he finally lent in, his lips close enough to kiss – Shoma felt his whole body stutter, his lips parting as he drew in another staccato breath, stretching up just a little with want and insistence, and Yuzuru drew in a scratchy breath of his own in response, fingertips dragging just a little along Shoma’s skin. He touched Shoma like he might disappear, and Shoma hated it, drew his body closer to Yuzuru’s and met his lips with an almost petulant press, his hand coming up to his neck to pull him close. Fight had won and flight was no longer an option; he wanted Yuzuru to know, wanted every action he took to enforce the clarity of the decision. He could say the words a hundred times and it would never be enough – he wanted Yuzuru to feel his choice, wanted the “I chose you” to be spelt out in muscle memory and the taste of his chapped lips. He kissed his mouth roughly, tugging at him and stretching up to kiss the side of his face and the corner of his eye, the soft spot where his jaw met his neck and then his chin before finally cupping his face and leaning in again, drawing himself up just enough that Yuzuru had to tip his head, his lips ghosting against Shoma’s for a beat as Shoma kept the tension in his body, holding himself steady. He could feel Yuzuru’s breath, the rise and fall of his chest, he could feel ribbons fluttering out on the breeze all around them in wild strands of sunlight and thunder, and he could hear the waves breaking heavy against the beach.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Yuzu,’ he whispered into Yuzuru’s skin. ‘I’m the sun, I’ll always be where I’m supposed to; you’re the one who’s going to fly away.’ It was an accusation – needless and wounded – but Yuzuru took the blow, stretching up to kiss Shoma’s lips and dragging him slowly back on a level with him, drawing him closer with sighs and a hint of marshmallow. His body was warm and Shoma let himself sink into it, tipping his head back obligingly for Yuzuru to kiss beneath his chin and at the square of his jaw, the dip of his neck and just behind his ear.

‘Remember the footsteps, remember the words said, remember the sound of the waves…and remember me; I’m by your side always, just like this.’ He kissed Shoma’s lips, lingering and fierce, and Shoma couldn’t help the flinch, the clench in his heart and the sound of crumpling paper.

‘Yuzu, I didn’t mean to accuse you,’ he murmured, but Yuzuru simply moved to brush at his fringe, pressing a kiss to his temple, his cheek and then his lips again.

‘But you did.’ Shoma shook his head as best he could, but Yuzuru held his face with cool, reverent fingers, drawing his body close in a graceful sinew of muscle and feeling. ‘Because you’re blunt and stubborn and you never give in. You should remember that too.’ Shoma let out a puff of laughter, lips curving as Yuzuru leant in to press another kiss to them, lingering and slow. He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, drawing in the scent of bergamot and the ocean; he knew his and Yuzuru’s bodies were just two faint shadows against an impossible vista of waves and starlight, but in that moment it felt like they were somehow bigger than all of it, perpetual and permanent. He drew back just a little, blinking up into Yuzuru’s face with dark, tired eyes.

‘You’re kissing me for being mad at you over something that isn’t even your fault?’ he asked with another faint laugh, and Yuzuru’s lips twisted into a rough smile as he watched the line his fingers traced along Shoma’s jaw.

‘No. I’m kissing you for not accepting anything less from the world than what you have put into it.’ He kissed Shoma’s forehead. ‘And you put so much into it, Shoma. If you hold on to that, you’ll be ok.’

‘If I hold on to you, you might not fly away though.’ Yuzuru puffed out a laugh, dipping in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

‘Stop living for tomorrow night. Live for this night right here with me.’ Shoma’s lips twitched into a flinching smile.

‘For one last night and for the rest of time.’ Yuzuru nodded against him, pulling him close and tucking his head under his chin with a sigh.

‘You and me out on the grass, forevermore.’ The sound of his voice vibrated against Shoma’s ear, and he smiled slightly, burrowing close and listening to the sound of his breathing; he was going to memorise his heartbeat and his thunder, he was going to memorise the way Yuzuru’s gentle fingers stroking his hair made him feel precious and adored and safe. Yuzuru was glorious amongst the sound of the crashing waves, a shock of wild hair and lightning against the backdrop of the edge of the world, and Shoma knew with a strange kind of peace that this wasn’t a moment for holding the world still – this was a moment to hold each other still instead.

 

They sat together that way as the quiet folded over them, the night cooling and expanding around them and the skies slowly shifting overhead. Shoma watched as the darkness began to ebb out in tendrils of dusty lavender cloud, dark blues giving way to a pale film of grey that turned the shadows of the cliff into brushed-pink and chalk-white. The smoky light was pale and powdery, drifting in like waves lapping up along the shoreline, bathing the sky in a fresh coat of colour; pastel light slowly soaked in at the edges, and out on the line of the horizon, Shoma could see the fishing boats drifting by, faint pale blue specks amongst grey and pink waves. It was still just him and Yuzuru and the wild skyline, a steady peace filling the air and a hush over the greyscale ground, but Shoma could feel the world shifting beneath their bodies, getting ready to turn; yesterday was stubbed-out and cooling, ashes of a bonfire and the smell of smoke, and Shoma couldn’t help but feel faintly fragile as he turned his face towards the dawn. There was something sad about sunrise then, something flaking and pale that nagged and ached and moved on; the remnants of the night before still hung like ghosts in the stillness of the air, and it was a faded reminder of something wonderful that could never quite be so intense again; glitter on the floor, flower petals tangled in someone’s hair, footprints in the sand. Memories were brilliant, magical things, but they weren’t moments, not really.

‘I know I said I wanted to see sunrises but…is it ok if we go in?’ Shoma whispered, pulling back to look into Yuzuru’s face. ‘I don’t want to know the moment that it all becomes a memory. I want to wake up and find it gone instead of watching it fade. I’m not ready to pretend to be glad yet that what’s gone before had changed into history.’ Yuzuru smiled at him gently, running his thumb with deliberate slowness across the curve beneath Shoma’s eye and letting out a soft, sympathetic hum.

‘Ok. Let’s go inside.’

 

He was grateful for Yuzuru’s uncomplicated understanding, for the way he simply took his hand and helped him up; there was something comforting about being led, about the certainty with which Yuzuru drifted through the dusty quiet. He followed Yuzuru with exhausted trust, back across the grass and through the courtyard, taking in nothing but the feeling of him squeezing his hand and the sound of his footsteps as he led them down into the protective dimness of the belly of the Foundation. He barely remembered arriving back in the garden, but he remembered the rough outline of a drift of sepia blossom petals, and the feeling of Yuzuru leaning in to press a tender kiss against his cheek. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he heard him say “Goodnight” against his skin.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but when he woke his neck was stiff and his head ached, which he knew was a sign he had either slept too much or not enough; he felt a gravelly drag on the far reaches of his senses, and he flinched back from it a little, trying to push his sunlight back against it with stubborn defiance but finding it strangely difficult to summon it up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed himself upright, blinking in confusion as the blanket fell away from him and the strange morning-moonlight of the garden washed over him in a rush of cherry blossom and silver, the feeling thick and soothing but also faintly disorientating. He tried to unstick his lashes, squinting up at the clouded sky for a moment and trying to make sense of the heavy film of mist that hung over it, shivering slightly; he frowned at the coolness of the air, the faint frost and chill that seemed to cling to everything, bemused by the muffled way the sound of the birds didn’t quite carry like it usually would – there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze, and strangely Shoma could see no butterflies.

 

As he looked around his eyes fell instinctively on the straight, still figure of Yuzuru, standing out by the side of the pond with his head bowed and his thunder quiet; there was something different in his energy, a resignation and a calm that had replaced his usual restlessness. He got to his feet and crossed the grass towards him, rubbing at his arms and pulling his jacket around him a little more tightly, aware of the strange, haunting sound of distant voices, fragments and fractures that seemed to be drawing themselves out of the mist – it was as though some unseen hand was running its fingertips over the rims of a thousand different glasses, a singing, ghostly sound at a pitch that Shoma heard more in his bones than in his ears.

‘Yuzu,’ he called out, but Yuzuru didn’t turn to look at him, instead stooping down to move his fingers across the surface of the water, and Shoma hesitated, watching him for a moment to try and figure out what he was doing. ‘Yuzu?’ Yuzuru moved his hand with steady, determined grace, twisting his fingers in the water; Shoma could have sworn he heard him say something, his voice a low, insistent murmur as he pulled his hand back and gave a single, decisive nod before abruptly straightening up again, looking into the garden’s sky. This time Shoma heard the words spoken – spoken like a promise and a spell at the same time.

‘The sun will rise and melt what’s frozen; all things will pass, spring will come again.’ Shoma’s heart stuttered in his chest, a flutter of dread running through him with the rustle like falling leaves in autumn air. He felt his breath quicken a little.

‘Yuzu!’ Yuzuru turned this time, looking over at him with a desolate kind of surprise, seeming caught and uncertain for just a moment before offering Shoma a tragic fracture of a smile.

‘Shoma,’ he breathed, and Shoma felt his forehead crease, the sound of his name spoken like a wound, the magic gone from it suddenly.

‘Yuzu, what’s going on?’ he asked, and Yuzuru glanced back down at the pond for a beat before crossing over to join him, taking both Shoma’s hands in his own before looking him in the eye intently.

‘Shoma, we have to go.’ Shoma blinked, uncomprehending, and Yuzuru leaned in, cupping his cheek in his hand, his expression earnest, hopeful and desperate at the same time.

‘But why? What’s happening?’ Yuzuru sighed, glancing up at the path then back to Shoma with a painful wince. ‘Yuzu: you promised to always be honest with me,’ Shoma said, his voice small and cracked, and a low frost beginning to tap its way up his arms.

‘Shoma,’ Yuzuru sighed, leaning their foreheads together with a rush of breath. ‘Trust me, please – I’ve told you everything already, and now we have to go.’

‘But-’

‘This won’t end quietly; this is going to end in flames and feathers, and what I need you to remember most of all? Is that we are the latch on the door of the universe; if we come undone, the dark gets in. And I will do anything to stop that happening.’ Shoma pulled back, bringing his hands up to Yuzuru’s chest and meeting his gaze with a vague hint of desolation and fury, shaking his head in mild disbelief.

‘Yuzu, are you saying goodbye to me?’ He heard the catch in his voice, felt the prickle of tears at the back of his eyes, and he hated it, desperately wished he could push it away and lace fire into the words instead. Yuzuru looked weary and worn, shaking his head slowly and leaning in once more; there were tears in his eyes too, Shoma realised, and some stubborn part of him just got angrier, furious at him for being everything he was, for being someone he could love so much and believe in so deeply. He didn’t want to believe in him. He didn’t want to remember him. Yuzuru closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his hands twisting into fists as he rested them heavily against Shoma’s neck.

‘I’m not saying goodbye, Shoma; I’m trying to not have to,’ he whispered. Shoma frowned, pulling back again and grabbing at Yuzuru’s upper arms firmly, meeting his eyes with a trace of indignance, his brow furrowed and his gaze almost black.

‘Yuzu, I don’t understand – what’s happening?’ Yuzuru sighed, turning his eyes up to the sky to stop himself from crying.

‘The Alliance are here. And we have to go.’

 

Shoma couldn’t even comprehend it, but Yuzuru had already grabbed his hand, pulling him away and up towards the path. His pace quickened in time with Yuzuru’s as they crossed the bridge and headed upwards, and he let himself be dragged headfirst into the end because there was no other option available to him but to follow Yuzuru, to trust him; it was wired into every instinct he had. The two of them were running at a breakneck pace when Yuzuru suddenly juddered to a stop, spinning back to face Shoma and tugging him to a halt, his breathing a little ragged as he squeezed his hand tightly, his other hand moving to Shoma’s power mark, wild lightning in the touch. ‘Promise me: if you’re ever afraid that everything is lost, just remember being with me here, in this place, and believe in impossible things again. Everything was a miracle once, Shoma. That the sun rises is a miracle, and it happens every day. The sun always rises: I truly believe that – and I believe in you.’ Shoma blinked at him for a moment, giving the vaguest of overwhelmed nods and squeezing Yuzuru’s hand back, tugging him just a little closer and meeting his gaze.

‘I believe in you too,’ he whispered. ‘And I promise to try to remember.’ Yuzuru’s lips curved in a whispering smile, and he nodded back faintly, bringing the back of Shoma’s hand up to his lips and pressing a firm kiss there before taking one step back and then another and then turning slowly away, taking off at pace up the path once again.

 

The scene they stumbled out to was one Shoma almost couldn’t begin to process; the courtyard was covered in broken glass and mud, branches ripped off the trees and debris strewn across the surface of the pools, people running and the sound of frantic voices filling the air. Shoma stumbled as he followed Yuzuru through the chaos, wincing against the hiss and rattle of everything he could sense, his power trying to close in and Yuzuru’s power somehow drawing it out. They hurtled past a pooling mass of haunting grey across the floor, its colour trailing out along the ground and reaching as far as one of the pools, ebbing into the water in muddy sepia and turning it to the colour of dust. Shoma almost tripped over himself as they passed it, and Yuzuru tugged him closer, pulling him away from the mark.

‘Careful; you don’t want any drain on your power right now.’ Shoma nodded dumbly, letting Yuzuru keep pulling him off towards the playing field.

 

The playing field was a mess of bodies and confusion, and Yuzuru didn’t hesitate until they reached the edge of the grass, suddenly halting with such an abrupt jerk that Shoma crashed into his back, looking up at him nervously. As Yuzuru took in the destruction with dark, desperate eyes, Shoma took in the sight of him; the fragile lines and the flickers of doubt, the shadows beneath his eyes and the paint-dash sinew of his body. His hair was ruffled, his cheeks stung pink by the sea breeze, and he looked suddenly young, then, like the little kid Shoma remembered from the news growing up, only now his edges seemed tinged with fear, a little of his faith in the world briefly dwindling as he saw what the Alliance had done to the Foundation and took it on with a sense of loss and guilt that Shoma wished he could press out of him. He squeezed his hand tightly, coming to stand at his side and ignoring the fire and fury around their ears; he only saw Yuzuru, he only felt sunlight and lightning and the slow drag as time hiccupped to a standstill the moment Yuzuru met his gaze. There were people caught in mid-fight, Snatchers and Alliance agents one on one with various Warriors – Shoma could sense a hundred familiar energies all around him, could hear voices he recognised, people crying out to each other with warnings and instructions, some even calling Yuzuru’s name. But Shoma ignored it all, forcing it to a stop as best he could against the dragging, sticky grey all around. Slowly, sadly, Yuzuru turned to look at him. ‘Shoma, you can’t hold this,’ he said, his breathing harsh and his gaze glassy but curiously fierce. The air was thick with white noise and static, and even as he shook his head defiantly, Shoma coughed against the smell of asphalt and burnt grass, the air dry in his lungs and scratchy to breathe.

‘I can hold it, we can hold it together,’ he said desperately, drawing a little closer to Yuzuru, who looked at him with fond devastation.

‘Shoma, it’s too late to change this; look around us – there is power being used for all the wrong reasons, and holding time will only drain it even more, it’s too concentrated an area for all this.’

‘But Yuzu-’

‘I'm sorry, Shoma, I'm so sorry,’ Yuzuru said, his voice earnest and soft. He cast an assessing glance over his shoulder, seeing something in the distance and staring at it for a moment before slowly turning back to meet Shoma’s eyes once again. ‘They won’t stop until they get what they came for – they have no care about the damage or who gets hurt. The whole Foundation could burn to the ground and it wouldn’t be enough; look how much damage they’ve already done.’ He stepped in close, taking both of Shoma’s hands in his own and meeting his eyes with determined intensity. ‘But a great act of drawing out magic can only be put right by a great act of putting it back in.’ Shoma let out a pained sound, shaking his head and fighting back a fresh prickle of tears from his eyes.

‘How is you running headfirst into a fight you can’t win a great act of putting magic back in, Yuzu? How is letting them get what they want something you can just surrender to? Just like that?’ Yuzuru smiled sadly, taking a step back and letting Shoma’s hands slide away from his. Shoma felt time beginning to unstick, figures drifting back into motion at the edges of his vision and rushes of sea air starting to ruffle once more at his hair. Yuzuru walked a few more steps backwards, and Shoma ached with fear and ice.

‘Please, Shoma. Just…believe in the sunrise, believe in impossible things,’ Yuzuru called out over the roar of the waves. ‘And whatever you do? You must keep your eyes on me, no matter what.’

 

Shoma felt a frown crease his features, but before he could cry out and question the words, time raged back in in a sudden burst, and Shoma gasped as he caught sight of the shape of a Snatcher over Yuzuru’s shoulder, bowling into him and sending him rolling across the ground towards the edge of the cliff.

‘Yuzu!’ he yelled, his voice cracking over the sound, but he felt a surge of panic when Yuzuru simply looked up at him with a ghost of a smile. He tried to point out the danger behind, but before he could he saw another figure advancing towards him and he had to turn away to throw a wave of fire and energy in its path; kept Yuzuru in the corner of his vision, even as he flung his power blindly as every single hint of an attack, and when he turned back he saw Yuzuru, standing with his arms outstretched and his eyes black with determination, his fingers twisting as he reached an arm above his head. ‘Yuzu, don’t!’ Shoma yelled, tears finally spilling down his cheeks, but Yuzuru was too far gone and too far away. All around them, the Alliance’s agents were closing in, barely stumbling as energy was thrown their way, absorbing the shock with a stagger and the kind of trudging insistence that was hollow and mechanical and coldly indifferent to the humanity of those who stared them down. Yuzuru seemed to do a sum in his head, and for a split second he held incredibly still, eyes still locked on the figure attempting to advance in his direction, and his arm still held steadily outwards. Shoma felt a dizziness creeping up on him, nausea curling inside him and making his skin clammy and cool. He knew what Yuzuru was going to do only in the split second before it happened; he felt his power build, felt lightning crackle through the air, and then, and then, with a yell of pure fire, Yuzuru hurled enough energy out into the space to send figures flying everywhere, taking off towards it, defiant as let himself take the force of the blow. There was so much power behind it, it even knocked Shoma back a little, his breathing quickening as he finally succumbed to the lightheaded feeling taking over him and crumpled to the ground.

 

The last thing he saw as he collapsed against the grass was the slight, waiflike grace of twisting limbs in the air, Yuzuru’s body a ragdoll dash of paint against the whiteness of the sky as he was flung in a high ark upwards, turning for a moment in a wet, delicate arch as he disappeared over the edge of the cliff and out of sight. Shoma wanted to get up, to run to him, to stop time and to do as he was told and keep him in sight. But he felt weak and weary and too scared to look down at the bleakness of the rocks.

 

He thought he saw gold feathers on the ground, and they twirled and danced at the edges of his vision for a moment before he finally closed his eyes and passed out in the middle of the devastation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY - I will now try to distract you with music and immense amounts of love! I can never ever ever thank you people enough for reading my story, for caring about this idea that would not leave me alone, for sticking with me through thousands of words and somehow always making it to the end, you are all so good to me and you did not deserve for me to end this chapter this way and yet here we are. I don't know for sure how long the next chapter is going to take, but hopefully not as long as this one because I never want to go through a chapter like this one ever again!! Thank you thank you thank you for reading - see you all next time!
> 
> Music music music SO MUCH MUSIC BECAUSE SO MANY WORDS!:
> 
> Agape - Bear's Den, All For Love - Sigala, All This Time - OneRepublic, All You Need To Know - Gryffin, All You Wanted - Michelle Branch, Army Of Angels - The Script, Bad Liar - Imagine Dragons, Beautiful Disaster - MIKA, Believe - Take That, Birds - Imagine Dragons, Boomerang - Imagine Dragons, Born To Be Yours - Kygo, Burning Bridges - OneRepublic, Call It What You Want - Taylor Swift, Carnival - Mark Owen, Carry Me Home - Take That, Colours - OneRepublic, Colourblind - Counting Crows, Crashing - Illenium, Dusk And Summer - Dashboard Confessional, Elastic Heart - Sia, End Of Everything - Mark Owen, The Energy Never Dies - The Script, Everlasting - Take That, Fall To Pieces - Avril Lavigne, Feel Good - Gryffin, Final Song - Mø, Flaws - Take That, The Flood - Take That, Freeze - Take That, Get Ready For It - Take That, Giveaway - Mark Owen, Glitter In The Air - Pink, Good Goodbye - ONE OK ROCK, Got It In You - BANNERS, Heartlines - Broods, Heaven's Falling - Mark Owen, Help - Hurts, Higher Than Higher - Take That, House On Fire - Sia, I Hear The Bells - Mike Doughty, I'M DOWN - Meghan Trainor, If You Go - Passenger, In The Stars - ONE OK ROCK, Kiss Me Slowly - Parachute, The Lamb - Mark Owen, Last Party - MIKA, Let There Be Morning - The Perishers, The Lightning Strike - Snow Patrol, Lips On Lips - Tiffany Young, Lose You Too - Shy Martin, Love You Like That - Dagny, Malibu Nights - LANY, Morning Belle - Mark Owen, New Year’s Day - Taylor Swift, Nothing Really. Matters - Gabrielle Aplin, On The Low - Tove Styrke, The One - Mark Owen, One Million Bullets - Sia, Original Of The Species - U2, Out Of My Head - Loote, Permanent - Kygo, Porcelain - Lucy Schwartz, Prosthetic Love - Typhoon, Raven - Mark Owen, Reverie - Illenium, Revival - Sigala, Ruin My Life - Zara Larsson, S.A.D. - Mark Owen, Sail Away - The Rasmus, Schedules - Sigrid, Science & Faith - The Script, Serious - Midnight Kids, Shine On - James Blunt, Slow Dancing In A Burning Room - John Mayer, Something Just Like This - The Chainsmokers & Coldplay, Souvenir - Avril Lavigne, Stars - Mark Owen, Still Yours - Jamie Lawson, Stolen - Dashboard Confessional, Stuck - Imagine Dragons, That Feeling When - Dagny, This Feeling - The Chainsmokers, This Fire - Sawyer Fredicks, This Love - Taylor Swift, This Won't End Quietly - We The Committee, Tie Me Down - Gryffin, Tired - Alan Walker, Up - Take That, Us And Ours - Mark Owen, Walk Me Home - Pink, Walking The Wire - Imagine Dragons, Wasted Nights - ONE OK ROCK, Whole Heart - Gryffin, Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift, Will You Be There For Me - Take That, Wolf's Law - The Joy Formidable, Wonderful World - Take That, You Won't Feel A Thing - The Script, 5 More Minutes - Mull Historical Society, 1000 Nights - FRENSHIP


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